Healing
by cruelfeline
Summary: After the battle against the dream Chimera Anima, Ichigo cannot stop thinking about Kisshu despite her love for Aoyama. What happens when a wounded Kisshu turns to her for help, putting her true feelings to a real test? KishIchigo with some PaiLettuce.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Notes: Okay, as an all-encompassing rule, I do not write fanfiction, _ever_, thought I think there's a random Zim poem on my account. I stick with my own characters in my own world. Unfortunately, this simple doctrine of mine has been valiantly challenged by what is, in my humble opinion, the _abominable_ pairing of Ichigo/Masaya.

Recently having watched the entirety of Tokyo Mew Mew, I find myself plagued with the bothersome question of why the hell would Ichigo choose dull, boring, one-dimensional Masaya over the grand, fascinating, adorably psychotic wonder that is Kisshu?

This is my first-ever fanfic, so don't expect wonders here. Oh, and if you're Masaya fans, well, I won't _kill_ him (that's reserved for my sweet dreams, thanks), but this won't be Ichigo/Masaya, just to warn. So don't waste your time flaming. If you don't like, just don't read. For the rest of you, I hope you enjoy.

SPOILERS: This happens after episode 39, with spoilers up to 39. So, using the magical skill of logic, we shall discover that, if one has not seen up to episode 39 and does not want the story spoiled for him or her, then one shall not read. Get it? Marvelous. That said, on we go

Disclaimer: Needless to say, I don't own Tokyo Mew Mew. If I did, Masaya would be dead, Kisshu would have gotten Ichigo, and I wouldn't have to write this fic.

* * *

The soft sound of winter wind joined the regular scratching of pencil on paper as Ichigo worked on her homework, face set in concentration as her eyes carefully read the math equation: _y x/25 + 43/(5x+1)_. _Thinking… thinking…thinki— oh, forget it!_ She leaned back in her chair with a soft sigh.

There was no sense in graphing _y_, not when recent events burned so brightly in her mind. _Aoyama-kun… thank goodness…_ He was all right. After all of it, after that terrifying battle, that moment of sheer horror when that stray Mew Aqua— she couldn't even reminisce without shuddering. Most importantly, she remembered with a smile, he was all right, _they _were all right, after that haphazard confession. Those few seconds, those crucial little moments that had been tormenting her for so long, and now it was over. He knew, and the world had not vanished into oblivion. Her heart had not ripped in two agonized pieces. Everything was _wonderful_.

Why, then, was peace evading her?

_Kisshu_…

Every time she closed her eyes, his anguished face assaulted her. She could not forget the feel of his limp body, the feel of that desperate pressure against her arm before he finally collapsed. Most of all, she could not block that pleading voice from her mind.

When he collapsed, and even before that, before their battle, that voice, begging her to come, begging her to understand…

To understand what? What could she understand, but that her home, her world, would be destroyed if she went with him? What truth was there, other than that the Mew Mews were protecting the world and that the aliens wanted it extinguished?

If that was it, then why couldn't she forget?

Why couldn't she keep from biting her lip and wondering if he was all right?

"This is…" Stupid. She wanted to say it was stupid, worrying about the enemy, about Kisshu of all people, the infuriating boy who wouldn't take no for an answer, who wouldn't leave her be, no matter how obviously she loved Aoyama-kun. How desperately she wanted to say it! It would reinforce everything: her confidence as a Mew Mew, her love for Aoyama-kun, her entire purpose for the last few months, yet every time she came close, she saw his face, smelled his blood. She heard Lettuce's newly-confident voice: "'It seems that those people do have feelings…'".

If they had feelings… if those people really had the same feelings… then Pai… Taruto… _Kisshu_…

She would have gone on staring at her blank white wall, lost in these disconcerting doubts, had fluffy pink not suddenly disrupted her gaze. Masha floated in front of her, bobbing up and down frantically as it urgently squeaked its all-too-familiar warning.

"Ichigo! Alien! Alien!"

_Alien? Could it be…?_

The window… she had to open the window. Why she had to open it, when it was snowing and cold outside, she had no clear idea. As Masha's shrill warnings rose in volume, she knew that the next step was to open the window.

Fingers clumsy with subconscious anticipation, Ichigo unlocked the window and peered out into the growing storm. Her gaze met a constant swirl of flakes. They caressed her face with their cold feathery touch as she stared out into the night, brow slowly furrowing as Masha flitted about her. Her nerves were tense in sudden fear, but she could not move from her place, no matter how vulnerable it made. She could not keep from staring out into the snowfall.

"Masha, where's the—"

She ended in a barely audible squeak as she felt cold fingers seize her chin and turn her face up into the frigid wind, up into a pair of golden eyes she wished she didn't know so well. Her first coherent thought as she felt those nails press against her skin was how cold they felt and how they trembled slightly. Her second was that his eyes weren't the same as always. She couldn't name the difference at that moment, but they weren't the same.

Different or not, those orbs bore into hers as they always did as his lips (_they're chapped,_ she thought, _really bad…_) split into his usual smirk. _Different, again. Something's not…not right…_

"Hello, koneko-chan."

* * *

Author's Notes: Ok, that's it for chapter 1. A bit short, granted, but I'm rather new at this, it's Halloween night, almost 1 AM, and I have economics first thing tomorrow morning :P

That said, read and review, please. There's more to come, probably... well, soon. You all have my crazily fluff-addicted friends to thank for that.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: See? Told you all I'd be back

animezebra: You and Toni… Oi vey :P And yea, I know I'm stiff. I'm always stiff. I'm using this silly thing as therapy grin I figure fluff's the best way to fix rigidity, eh?

KishxIchigo and ReccaxYanagi and SetoxSerenity Forever: Thanks for the review . Yea, that's one heck of a collection you've got there; it's good to know that someone shares my death wish for IchigoxMasaya.

Kishy: Updating away! Thanks for your review.

Supercookies567: First, nice username. Cookies rock. Second, thanks for the review .

Thanks given, we move on to the next chapter. Again, expect nothing fantastic, but enjoy if you can.

Disclaimer: I don't own Tokyo Mew Mew. As previously stated, if I did, Masaya would be dead and the Blue Knight's head would be mounted on my wall. Kisshu and Ichigo would be expecting their fifth child, and the world would be a happier place.

* * *

As often happened when she had a close meeting with Kisshu, Ichigo's mind went momentarily blank. All thoughts fled, everything from what she had for dinner last night to, and she could not admit this, especially not to herself, her love for Aoyama-kun. It all vanished into the arms of oblivion when that golden stare, so penetrating, so frighteningly intense, settled on her. Usually, after this erasure of thought, the first ideas to tentatively make their way back into the light involved something along the lines of _Get off of me, you perverted freak!_ As her mental gears slowly resumed their turning, Ichigo realized that today was different. 

_He looks different. He's still smirking, but something's wrong, something's missing, something's wrong_…

A quick glance at his whole form and she gasped again, not the gasp of embarrassed shock that usually followed the alien's appearance, but one of more disturbed surprise.

His shirt was torn on the left from collar down to chest; between the two jagged edges, she could see the angry red mouth of the frighteningly deep wound she knew he carried from the recent battle with the Blue Knight. _It's been a few weeks, hasn't it? Why hasn't it…?_

The dark green of his hair was lightened by a fine layer frost and snow. The strands of hair tied with ribbon were stiff with it, frozen in place. She could see the frost on his long eye lashes. Suddenly, she was aware that the slight trembling of his fingers was just an offshoot of shivers wracking his body. Suddenly, she saw how his skin was even paler than normal. She realized that his breathing with strangely halted, that his grip on her was not as vice-like as it usually was.

All this came to her in a half-blink before movement came back to her, and she jerked back, eyes wide, hands reaching instinctively for her metamorphosis charm before stopping halfway.

"What… What are you doing here, Kisshu?" she began, her voice far softer than the accusing cry she often reacted with. Her hands hovered over the charm; she swallowed quietly before continuing. "Why aren't you with Pai? And Taruto? You… you shouldn't—"

Her voice refused to serve her. She bit her lip, conflicting thoughts swirling in her mind. How she wanted this to be like always; how she wanted to transform and force him away from her with her habitual screams of idiot and declarations of loyalty to Masaya. She even wanted to hear Kisshu's possessive remarks, even his threatening demands for her, anything to mark this as _normal_.

As the alien boy slowly alighted on her small balcony, eyes following her as she backed away from him, she knew that her wishes were futile. They were obliterated by the way he leaned against her window sill, by the way a frightening desperation dulled his eyes, by the timid voice of Lettuce gently chiding her, gently guiding her towards the idea _He's hurt_.

"They won't take me, Koneko-chan. Ichigo…"

It suddenly occurred t her that he could climb inside; she had backed up to give him all the space he needed. This idea dominated her mind, and her fingers brushed her charm as her fear took charge, only to quickly ebb when she realized with a wave of a different sort of horror that he did not have the strength to lift himself over the edge of the window.

"Kisshu…" He cut her off abruptly, a shadow of his typical smirk lifting his lips as he murmured, "They won't. Deep Bl—"

Eyes continuously wide, hands trembling, Ichigo watched as he gave a harsh cough, watched as drops of scarlet decorated the snow of her window sill. _Deep Blue?_ she thought frantically, _Did Deep Blue… could he have…?_ Her thoughts came in panicked fragments, but eventually she came to her own conclusion: Had Deep Blue ordered banishment? Ichigo knew next to nothing about this mysterious being the aliens seemed to follow, but considering the respect with which they spoke of him, he seemed perfectly capable of ordering such a thing. If he had, if Pai and Taruto were obeying, then that meant—

"You're it, Ichigo." He whispered it over the piercing gales of wind, so soft, so pleading, that the girl barely heard the last syllable pass his lips before his knees buckled, his eyes fluttered closed, and he sank to the ground.

His fall seemed to drag on forever, Ichigo noticed as she watched his limp form. Her eyes followed his endless descent, stared in paralyzed shock just as they had the last time when she, so absorbed in disbelief, had let him slip from her grasp. That moment suddenly rang loud and vivid in her numb psyche, and the next moments sped by her abilities of recognition. Without conscious thought, she found herself leaning halfway out the window, arms half-encircled around the alien boy to keep him from hitting the balcony pavement.

A second later she had somehow hoisted herself outside, constantly keep Kisshu's limp body from hitting the ground. She kneeled down before him, and as his body fell against her, his head resting against her shoulder, she realized where she was and what she was doing. Later, she would wonder what kept her from dropping the body then and there.

"What am I doing?" she wondered softly to herself, tensing against an answering howl of wind. What was she doing, exactly? She looked down at her unconscious enemy, took in his full appearance at close range. She bit her lip in despair; simply put, he was badly wounded and nearly frozen.

_I can't just leave him, can I?_

Again, that memory of that battle, of his awakening her, of his plea filled her mind. Ichigo took a deep breath as her resolve strengthened. There was no leaving him, not like this.

_I can't, not like this_.

Her mouth set in firm determination, she bent down further, shifting Kisshu onto his back and into her arms with as much care as she could manage. Steeling herself for what she anticipated as a difficult task, she began to lift him, only to be surprised at how little he weighed.

Slowly, gingerly, she climbed back into her room, carefully, pushing the window open to its full extent with her back before bringing the alien through. The silence was soon broken by Ichigo's sigh of relief as she pulled her leg over the sill.

_Now what?_ she wondered, surveying her room and finally allowing her gaze to fall on her bed. A moment's hesitation was answered with _It's all that's here_, and she crossed her room. She lay him down gingerly, always mindful of that garish wound which, she realized with mute horror, was actually bleeding. _It must have opened up…_

Ichigo quickly rose to close the window, then returned to the prone Kisshu, taking a truly good look at him. As she did so, tears, unbidden, unwelcome, but inevitable, filled her eyes.

She was so accustomed to seeing him impish, playful, cruel, quick and cunning, that she had been shocked by his collapse all those nights ago after the dream chimera anima's destruction. Now, seeing the raw edges of his unhealed wound, the numerous bruises the Blue Knight must have left behind, seeing the way his body, lying unconscious, still shook with cold (_How long was he out there?_), she hung her head in a shame she could not understand, but knew that she somehow deserved.

She did not understand this new feeling, this unbidden spawn of Lettuce's declaration at that battle. She did not want its complications, its suggestions. She wanted a simply division between friend and enemy, but she knew, staring at the boy before her, that such things had flown from her grasp as soon as Masha announced Kisshu's presence. Now, lifting a hand to gently brush his frozen bangs from his eyes, Ichigo made a silent resolution.

_I won't let you die._

* * *

Author's Note: And now, the fluff and sappiness can begin! As before, read and review, please. I'll take all criticisms, preferably constructive, and suggestions. Hope you enjoyed . 


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews! Toni and Sheebita… you crazy people :P I think I've found my fluff-related weakness, and you two little monkeys are going to exploit it, aren't you?

Well, here's the next chapter. Enjoy.

* * *

First, Ichigo muttered a short prayer of thanks to whatever god was listening; her parents were gone for a week on a couple's cruise. This remarkable coincidence was truly a godsend; what in the world could she have done if her parents were home? The _last _thing she needed was her father discovering an alien boy in rather revealing attire bleeding all over her bed sheets. Second, she quickly left her room, ran down the short hallway, and adjusted the thermostat to a few degrees above her normal room temperature. That done, she returned, stopping by the hall closet to grab a few blankets on the way. As she entered, she gave a frustrated sigh when she realized that she'd need even more supplies. There was no ignoring the gash cutting from his shoulder to his chest. A minute or so later, she returned once more with all the antiseptic and bandages she could find, made a quick second trip, and came back with a basin of warm water which she set down beside the bed. 

That done, she took a deep breath, too quickly becoming aware of what she would have to do. Warming him up was a must, but leaving that wound as it was could lead to nothing good, and dressing it would be much easier without him being bundled up. She also needed to remove his shirt; it was so torn and bloody, she doubted he'd mind, anyway. His shorts… a flare of blush across her cheeks put a swift end to any ideas concerning _them_.

She fingered the tattered remains of his shirt carefully, vaguely wondering exactly how she could get it off before deciding that moving him about to get it off the usual way was too troublesome, and too dangerous. Grabbing a pair of scissors from her desk, she lengthened the long tear, cutting down his sleeve until his right arm was free, then slowly reaching over and pulling the rest of it off his left. Finished, Ichigo surveyed her patient, that pesky blush quickly returning to paint her cheeks a soft pink; it occurred to her, somewhere in a small corner of her mind, that if he hadn't been in such bad condition, Kisshu would have looked—

The sickening contrast of red blood against his deathly pale skin saved Ichigo from pursuing that little thought.

Swallowing nervously but setting her face into a determined frown at the same time, she bent over the wound, wringing out a small towel she had soaked in the warm water and, as carefully as she could, touched a corner of it to the skin surrounding the wound, cleaning off cried and fresh blood before rinsing the cloth and steeling herself for the disturbing next step: using the antiseptic. Childhood experience reminded her that the stuff burned like all heck, and the thought of using it on such an injury made her nauseous.

"Ok… just a little bit," she whispered to herself as she soaked the corner of a second cloth with the fiery liquid, hoping that she could use her own voice to calm her shaking hands. A doctor she was not, and she knew it. _But what else can I do?_ Calling a hospital was out of the question, so the girl was left to rely on her own wits. As she gingerly touched the cloth to the edges of cut skin, she could only pray it was enough.

Unfortunately, the worst possible thing happened right at that moment: Kisshu uttered a soft, pained yelp, eyes snapping open at the nasty sensation, and he jerked away from her, raising his still-trembling body halfway up before settling a wide-eyes, half-focused gaze on the surprised girl.

For a moment, neither spoke. Kisshu's mind, barely functioning, could do little to explain to him why Momomiya Ichigo was sitting before him, a look of concern he had never seen before dominating her features. Ichigo stared back, mouth slightly open, clearly unsure of what to say, not knowing if he'd even hear her, such was the dazed look on his face. The stillness broke when the last of the strength in his arms gave way and Ichigo gave a soft cry of "Kisshu!" as she caught him again, gently lowering him back down.

His eyes gradually attained a focus on her face; to her shock, his lips lifted in a weak smile.

"I died, then?" he whispered, voice raspy and weak. Ichigo blinked back those persistent tears, shaking her head quickly.

"No, no, Kish, you—" She couldn't finish, so flustered she was. Seeing him in this state, without all that marked him in her mind as Kisshu… it worked the same paralysis on her as it had before. Digging her nails into her thigh, forcing what she hoped was a comforting smile, she summoned all her resolve.

"You're in my room."

Instead of the snide, probably perverted response she could expect from him, Kisshu replied with a simple, "Oh." He took a few shaking breaths before adding, almost as an afterthought, "My shoulder hurts… and it's cold…"

Ichigo found herself nodding with more energy than necessary.

"I—I know. I have to clean the cut out, ok? Then I'll warm you up. Ok, Kisshu?" Why she bothered asking his permission, she did not know; he was obviously barely lucid, and what part of his mind was awake was likely dedicated to the sensations of pain and cold. Nevertheless, Ichigo kept a steady gaze on him as she began to clean the gash again. It was lucky that she did, for when he cried out and jerked this time, she was able to restrain him quickly. In a weak voice she never thought she'd hear from him again, that she hoped she would never hear again, he gasped, "It hurts."

Again, a nod, but this time also a quick caress across the forehead.

"I know, but you have to hold still. It'll be over soon," she murmured quietly, again wondering if her words were reaching him at all. Eyes shining with sympathetic tears, she hurried through the rest of the cleansing, one arm firmly holding the alien boy in place as he hissed and grimaced in pain.

As she discarded the cloth and reached for the bandages, she realized with a pang of agonizing despair that he had fallen unconscious again; the pain had sent him back to darkness. She wound the bandages around his chest and shoulders in silence, carefully tying it off when she was sure it was thick and tight enough to discourage more bleeding.

That done, she pulled the blankets over him, tenderly smoothing them out and adjusting them until she was sure that he was totally covered. He had not stopped shivering, and it suddenly occurred to her that his body temperature had probably fallen far below normal, and that she should get a thermometer and check. A moment later she realized that she didn't know what normal _was_ for an alien, and even if she did, she could not bring herself to leave.

There was something about his voice, his unfocused gaze, his weakness that disturbed her to her core. _He's not… they're not… this can't be happening…_ Yet it was. In spite of everything she wished, this _was_ happening, and no matter how many times she reminded herself that this was the enemy, that this was the vicious, conniving Kisshu, she could not stop herself from tentatively smoothing back his bangs.

No matter what the voice of logic insisted, she could not move from the bedside.

* * *

Author's Note: As usual, review, please! Jeez, I have to start doing these earlier. Calculus test tomorrow does not mix with going to sleep at 1AM. 


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: Ok, it's 11:36, and I've had the whole day to start this. Can someone explain to me why I'm doing it _now_? Especially with mountain biking tomorrow? Eh? Sheeba and Toni, this is all _your_ fault you know. If I crash into a tree tomorrow, I place full blame on you.

That said, we move on with the story. In answer to you two fluff-crazed people, yes, I'll work on the characterization here, I suppose. We all know that I need my fluff fixes, too, though I'm surprised you're complaining, Toni. Goodness knows you're the ultimate fluff-monger, you psychotic IchigoxMasaya fan… I can only hope episode 51 will fix you.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but an adorable ferret named Scout, and he has no rights to Tokyo Mew Mew whatsoever. If he did, I'm sure I could've trained him to pair Ichigo and Kisshu up. Unfortunately, I don't have that luxury, so we're stuck with moronic Aoyama over here.

* * *

According to the wall clock, it was 11:46 when Ichigo, lightly drowsing in her desk chair, was awoken by a soft groan from the bed. Her eyes, half-closed just a moment ago, instantly focused on Kisshu's stirring form as his own golden orbs opened. Immediately, a feeling of intense relief seized her; just by looking at his eyes, she could see that he was totally conscious. She released a breath she had not known she had been holding. _He's himself. He's ok, really, this time, everything's going to be all right_… The Kisshu of just a couple of hours ago had distressed her beyond what she had thought possible; only after seeing him in such a state could she recognize her own appreciation for normalcy. Unfortunately, the exact brand of normalcy characteristic of Kisshu had the unique ability to turn her honest concern into embarrassment and annoyance.

His eyes quickly scanning the room as he propped himself up on an elbow, wincing slightly in the process, his gaze landed on her, returned to study his prone position on the bed, and flicked back to her. A fanged smile, small but sly, lifted his lips.

"So this is how you play, eh, koneko-chan?" he quipped in a voice still raspy and weak, but laced with enough suggestive playfulness to light her cheeks aflame and coax an enraged sputtering from her.

The only thing that kept her from giving the alien a well-deserved slap was the remaining pallor in his complexion. _He's still hurt, he's just feeling better. This is a good thing. Yes, very good, very, very good…_ "Playing hard to get, though, aren't we? I mean, if _this_ is what I have to do to get into your bed…"

Goodbye self-control. Wave to it while it flies out the window, boys and girls.

"You _pervert_!" she screeched. "I go through all the trouble to— to—! Listen to me!"

The boy was chuckling at her sudden outburst, only making her more flustered as she struggled to gain control over the situation. About to lose her temper, Ichigo was pulled back to the harsh seriousness of the situation when a snicker resulted in Kisshu hissing in pain as his wound reminded him of its presence.

Ichigo couldn't tell, absorbed in the moment, but a bystander would have seen that her anger dissolved with surprising rapidity, giving way to an even more intense concern as she closed the small distance between them, suddenly aware that, capable of his usual nonsense or not, the alien boy still had a grave injury. The same thought seemed to occur to Kisshu himself as his smirk turned rueful and he carefully lay himself back down. Ichigo was surprised when he spoke, his voice serious, tinged with… could it be… wistfulness? Sadness?

"I wasn't lying, Ichigo." Somehow, when he called her by her real name and not by his pet names for her, she felt a peculiar shock of feeling. This time, she blamed it on the distressing events surrounding their current situation. He took a deep breath, or as deep a breath as he could take with that wound stretching across his chest, eyes filling with a dill sort of regret.

Before he could continue, the girl interrupted in a small voice, so quiet and tentative that she reminded herself more of timid Lettuce than of herself. Had she been slightly more observant, she may have recognized it as the same voice she used with Aoyama in those moments when her heart pounded and she found herself overly concerned with her hands.

"You could… you could stay here." Surprised as _she_ was to hear _that_ come out of her own mouth, Kisshu appeared even more shocked. As if trying to apologize for the astounding statement, she blurted out "Only until you're better!"

Instead of the lewd comment she was expecting (perhaps an extension of his previous comment, or a remark about the… _questionable_…possibilities of imprisonment), Kisshu responded in silence, a simple smile replacing the surprise on his face. He relaxed back against the pillow.

Ichigo nervously sat back down in her desk chair, painfully aware of the sudden awkwardness of her situation. She had just asked him to _stay_. Stay, as in not go. Stay, as in… she shook her head. Yes, she got the point. As her eyes dared to wander back to Kisshu, she realized that he was staring at her, and that damned blush quickly resumed its place on her cheeks. Seeing this, he smirked, a soft snicker breaking the silence, but he took it no further. Either too tired (_Yeah, this whole thing probably just exhausted him_, she thought) or, was it possible, acting somewhat courteous? _Could he maybe… just maybe…?_ Before she could give herself a firm mental slap and remind herself that this was still _Kisshu_, a softly-uttered word, free of sarcasm, untainted by threat or disturbing suggestions, gently cut through the silence.

"Thanks."

After that, she supposed his strength really did give out, because his eyes closed, his breathing evened out, and Ichigo was left to contemplate, eyes wide in confusion, lips tempted to lift in an unbidden smile, the sense of what had just happened, the sense of the wild emotional ride she had just experience, and the exact nature of what she had brought upon herself.

A few minutes of this, and she realized that it was futile. All she could do was quickly check the sleeping alien's bandages and breathing before quietly leaving the room, changing and washing up, and returning with a plush sleeping bag. Deciding that answers would not magically appear no matter how long she stayed awake, she lay the sleeping bag down next to her bed, got as comfortable as she could, and was asleep before she could bother with another thought

* * *

Author's Note: 1 AM again. Mountain biking tomorrow…eh… today. Damn. It.

Read and review, please. At least give me a good _reason_ for killing my sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: Ok, just as an update, it's 11 o'clock, and I have to choose between another chapter of this and my biology homework. A cookie to whomever can guess where my priorities lie :P

Toni! MUAHAHAHA! I converted you! Well, ok, I didn't convert you the way I was _planning_, but I still did a pretty good job of screwing up your vision of Ichigo and Masaya. I can't _really_ be blamed for your Ichigo-hate… I wasn't planning on that . Heh, I always do the most damage when I don't mean to :P

Sheebs… meh, I dun feel like converting you. Nothing wrong with some lovely Ryou/Ichigo. Ryou's not an idiot. And he looks like he should be on Yu-Gi-Oh! Mucho amor to the lean guys in leather. Goodness knows they have a giant place in our hormone-driven hearts. Of course, if later LettucexRyou and some episode 51 goodness does some damage, well, I can't be blamed, now can I?

Mestophiles: Am I? I always worry about that (it's why I never write fanfiction). Thanks for the encouragement .

luv4anime: Yes, much hate for Masaya. Mucho, mucho, mucho hate for Masaya. One day… he will meet his demise… eh, well, not really. But we can pretend he will .

Thanks for the reviews, and on to the next chapter.

Disclaimer: I don't own Tokyo Mew Mew. The proof of that is that Ichigo went with Masaya. If _I_ owned TMM, we'd have been spared from that catastrophe.

* * *

Ichigo awoke to a dull grey morning, clouds still full of un-fallen snow cloaking the sky. Yawning, she briefly wondered why she was on the floor instead of in her bed. Memory came back quickly, however, and she was careful to stand quietly in case Kisshu was still asleep. A quick glance proved he was.

Curiosity won over courtesy as Ichigo silently leaned over the sleeping alien, suddenly quite aware of the fact that _Kisshu_ was sleeping in her _room_. In all the stress of the night before, that simple truth hadn't really settled itself, but after a good sleep, she was rather intrigued, if not slightly bashful, by the whole situation.

_He's cute_, she decided, allowing herself a tiny smile at his curled-up form. Even though he still looked rather pale and somewhat unwell, he was sleeping soundly, and while relaxed, he looked less intimidating, less cunning than when awake and taunting her. A strand of hair had gotten loose from the bands he used and was gently blowing with every breath. Ichigo's smile grew as she reached out to brush that little stray…

_This isn't Aoyama-kun!_

Mortified, Ichigo drew back, her gaze turning embarrassed and wary. _This isn't Aoyama-kun. It's not, so what are you doing!_ What did she think she meant by touching him while he was sleeping? And so tenderly, too?

_He's just here because he's hurt, that's all. As soon as he's better, he'll go, and this will all be over. We can go back to normal, to the way things were. And he's not that cute, not at all, not like Aoyama-kun…_

Did she want to go back to the way things had been? Could she? Could she forget the desperation in his voice, the apparent faith he had in her, so much faith, that he had relied on her to save his life? That he was still relying on her to help him? Was it possible to simply ignore last night?

_And he _is_ cute, you know_.

Totally bewildered, the girl decided to make breakfast before Kisshu had the chance to awaken and confuse her more. She exited quietly, taking care to descend the stairs with as little noise as possible. Finally reaching the kitchen, she found herself faced with a new dilemma. What exactly did aliens eat?

_Lemme see… they're from this planet, right? Then they should be able to eat what we eat…hopefully…_

The thought kept her mind busy enough to steer it away from the uncertainty of the future, and she busied herself with searching through the cupboards and refrigerator for something that she could cook without killing herself or her charge. She relaxed when she found her mother's store of ramen, figuring what was good for a sick human would probably work for an injured alien and saying a silent thank you to the inventors of this amazing, all-purpose dish before putting a pot of water on the stove. Within minutes, the soup and noodles reached a steady boil, and Ichigo breathed a sigh of relief (cooking was not one of her strong points, and a disaster avoided ranked as miracle-status in her mind).

Ichigo poured a bowl of the soup and set it down on the table. It occurred to her that perhaps she'd better get dressed while the alien was still asleep, just to avoid any of the awkwardness that Kisshu had a penchant for creating. As soon as that thought was processed, she realized that to do that, she should have taken her clothes with her when she had left the room. Grumbling at this silly inconvenience, she carried the bowl of soup upstairs, pushing open her door with the hope that the boy was still asleep. Luck seemed to be with her today as she saw the rhythmic rising and falling of the mountain of blankets covering her charge.

Setting the bowl on her desk, she quickly retrieved some clothes from her dresser, carefully silent all the while, and, with a last glance at Kisshu's sleeping form, slipped out of her room and into the bathroom.

She went through the daily ritual of washing up, ending with a short shower before getting dressed. Toweling her hair dry as she pushed open the door to her room, she froze in mid hair-tussle, mouth falling open in a shock. Her cheeks blazed an angry scarlet.

Her bed was conspicuously empty, and the space in front of her dresser was occupied by Kisshu, rather engrossed in the contents of her dresser drawers, and when she thought dresser drawers, she meant that all-important drawer holding what males dreamed of but females guarded with all their feminine ferocity: the underwear drawer. It was said drawer that Kisshu was staring rather intently into, and it was because of this questionable intent in his gaze that Ichigo gave a screech that made the alien jump.

"Kisshu! Get away from there!"

Even though she couldn't see herself, she knew she must have looked completely vicious; the look of sheer astonishment on Kisshu's face was almost worth catching him where she did. He backed away as the girl stalked to the drawer, slamming it shut and whirling around to face him. By now, the shock had worn off a bit, and a look of amusement had taken up residence in his features. He smiled back at the irate Ichigo, innocence a sugary coating over the slyness in his voice.

"I was just looking for a shirt, Ichigo."

The worst part of that simple sentence was that Kisshu indeed had no shirt, and no matter how guilty he looked, no matter how guilty Ichigo _knew_ he was, there would be no arguing with him and his triumphant smirk. The girl accepted this with gritted teeth, swiftly pulling a long black night-shirt out of her drawer and tossing it at him. A second later, she pulled out the matching pants and threw those, too.

"Change into those." Sleeping in those odd shorts of his probably wasn't too comfortable, anyway, especially since they, too, had a few small bloodstains on them. She paused, waiting for a few moments before letting out an exasperated "Well?"

"I didn't know you wanted to watch, koneko-chan, but if you insist…"

The girl whipped around with an infuriated growl, tapping her foot with childish impatience as Kisshu seemed to take his time changing. She was about to snarl an annoyed "Are you done yet?" when Kisshu announced that he was finished. She turned around slowly (lest he be lying), and was relieved to see the alien boy fully clothed, albeit still smirking. Struggling to retain her composure, Ichigo sighed before looking him up and down, satisfied.

As she did, she suddenly realized that the pallor of his skin had not diminished. It may have been the black shirt contrasting with his complexion, but she found herself harshly reminded of his injury. The neckline of the shirt itself was a little wide, and she could see some of he bandages; his breathing seemed to be a little more labored than it had been a moment ago…

"You shouldn't be standing! Get back into bed." The command probably sounded a bit stricter than she meant it to; the combined forces of her embarrassment and bemusing concern added a touch of harshness to her voice. The effect on Kisshu was rather strange; he seemed to wilt slightly under the annoyed tone, yet the worry running underneath its surface inspired a spark of pleased surprise. He also appeared to realize that she was right, wincing as he gingerly lowered himself back down onto the bed.

Ichigo could feel his eyes following her as she moved to her desk, picking up the bowl of ramen and sliding her chair next to the bed. Trying to ignore the picturesque scene taking shape, she placed the bowl in her lap before looking up at him, finding it oddly difficult to speak clearly now that her anger had dissolved, leaving only those disconcerting emotions running dangerously close to the surface.

"Ano… this is soup… ramen… can you…"

She was surprised when Kisshu interrupted, apparently rescuing her from her discomfort.

"I can eat it."

_Wonderful… problem solved!_ The next moment, she cursed herself for speaking too soon. After placing the bowl in Kisshu's lap, they both learned that the boy couldn't hold the chopsticks; the injury had somehow ruined some function in his hand. First, Kisshu winced at the pain this movement apparently caused him, a frustrated snarl twisting his face, until the realization of Ichigo's next duty dawned on him. A satisfied smile took his face as the snarl seemed to migrate to Ichigo's features. He looked ready to deliver one of his quips, but a glare from the girl silenced him.

"Don't you _dare_."

Kisshu grinned, opening his mouth slightly as Ichigo, hand kept barely steady in her aggravation, fed him the first of the ramen noodles. Little by little, the noodles disappeared until only the warm soup was left. Ichigo lifted the bowl to his lips carefully, all her self-control focused on resisting the temptation to pour the stuff into his lap, until he drank it all. He sat licking his lips while she placed the bowl back on the desk, cheeks hot in her girlish mortification.

_He's not Aoyama-kun, he's not him, he's not as cute, or as nice, or as wonderful. He's just here because they've abandoned him. He'll leave as soon as I'm sure he won't die on his own out there. I fed him because he can't hold the chopsticks. It was not cute, no, definitely not cute. If I fed Aoyama _(the blush intensified)_ it would have been cute, but I didn't, so it was nothing, nothing at all, he just couldn't—_

"Arigatou, koneko-chan."

His voice shocked her out of her frenzied thoughts; she looked up with a soft gasp, only to see the alien settling back down underneath the covers, looking oddly tired despite his lively tone. _See? Still hurt, still injured. That's why he's here. That's all it is. I'm just being a good girl. Yes, a good girl._

_Does the enemy deserve a good girl?_ _Shut up!_

Ichigo shook herself lightly before turning her full attention on Kisshu. With some difficulty, she managed a "You're welcome" before taking a firmer hold of herself.

"I'll change your bandages again later, ok? So… ano… get some more sleep, ok?"

For all his recent talk and activity, Kisshu seemed awfully tired now, and he only nodded before closing his eyes. Ichigo, after watching him a few more moments, suddenly realized that she _was_ watching him and stood abruptly, picking up the bowl and leaving the room, praying to whomever happened to listen that some household chores would help her get a hold of herself.

_Just until he's better, that's all._

* * *

Author's Note: Whoa. 2:13 AM. That's a new one. Thank goodness tomorrow's Sunday.

On a little side note, I'm aware of some spelling errors and typos in these chapters. I know they're there, and I'll fix them, but I do this things really late at night (grumble), so please be somewhat tolerant until I find the time to look through everything thoroughly and bring my spelling and grammar up to par.

All right, that was the classic feeding scene, a must in any remotely-fluffy fanfic. I apologize wholeheartedly for that, but it's late. Really, really late. And… uh… I need my fluff-fixes, too :P As always, read and review, please!


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note: Ahh… 11 o'clock, Sunday night. Right on schedule. I don't have to be awake in class tomorrow anyway. Why they don't just give is the day off, considering Tuesday's free, is beyond me.

Other characters, eh? Mou… I _despise_ using other people's characters, and Sheebs, you know that! Super Lucky Tiki Charm, you don't so you're forgiven :P More characters is gonna drive me nuts… yea, I'd guess I'd better . Besides, I can always use this as an excuse to kill Aoyama…. grin… nah, I'll save that for another fic.

Now, lesse. Should I write this chapter, or read King Lear for AP Lit. Fic… King Lear…fic…King Lear… Let's all guess what's gonna happen, boys and girls. How I pass classes, I don't know.

BlackWingedGabriel: You little mind reader, you… ;P

Disclaimer: I own nothing. If only I owned TMM, really. Ichigo would bazooka Aoyama's head into oblivion, and we could all be happy, happy people. Except for Toni, who seems to have something of a grudge against Ichigo now…:P Ah well .

* * *

For once in her life, Ichigo mentally thanked her parents for leaving an unbelievably long list of housework. As she vacuumed, swept, scrubbed, and dusted, her mind relaxed, slowly letting go of stressful thoughts concerning the last twelve hours. She even managed to loosen up enough to smile, humming as she worked. 

Her lightened mood didn't last long, however. She just looked up at the clock, noting that it was 11:41 and deciding that she'd wait until twelve to change Kisshu's bandages, when she was interrupted by the doorbell.

_Please don't let it be anyone important… no Mew Mews, please…no Shirogane… please, please, please, no—_

That last thought shattered as soon as she peeped through the eye hole and found her gaze met by Masaya's face.

She gasped, face reddening in an instant, hands flying habitually to her mouth in a gesture of girlish horror. _Masaya_ was standing outside her door. Aoyama Masaya. During the winter holidays. When her parents weren't home. She. Was. Going. To. Die.

Then this train of thought was crushed just as quickly. Masaya was outside. Kisshu was upstairs. Kisshu + Masaya equals…

Ichigo squeaked in rising panic. As if to mock her, the doorbell rang again.

_Should I open it? I can't just leave him standing there! Wait... I could pretend I'm not home! Yeah, that's good! But that's _Aoyama-kun_. During _vacation

A frustrated squeal tore the silence as she frantically bit her lip, eyes fixed so intensely on the door, that it seemed she was wishing a determined stare would fix her problem. No such luck; ever persistent, the boy rang a third time.

_Kisshu's probably still asleep, right? So if I let him in, and just keep him downstairs, then it should be—_

A smile lit her face as she opened the door, dilemma supposedly solved, her world back in balance. Her heart leaped as Masaya returned her smile, gentle brown eyes meeting hers as he politely greeted her.

"Ohayou, Momomiya-san."

Ichigo's heart fluttered at the sound of her name; it always did when she heard that smooth voice, saw that perfect smile, and gazed into those orbs of infinite kindness and caring.

"Oh… ohayou, Aoyanma-kun. How— how are you?" She was too flustered to even curse her stammering. It was odd, she may have thought had she been calm enough; their relationship had grown so much in the past few weeks, what with their various confessions. Why was she so nervous?

The boy noticed the very thing. His face softening a touch, he answered, "Fine. Are you all right? Is something—?"

"Nothing's wrong!" Ichigo blurted out a mite too quickly. She caught herself after this, forcing herself to calm down before looking into his eyes, willing normalcy into the situation. "I'm fine. Come in!" She led him to the sofa, sitting down, motioning for him to do so. As he did, she relaxed.

_Everything's fine, see? Now we'll just talk and everything will be completely normal_.

As far as she knew, this was exactly what happened. The two conversed and laughed and enjoyed each other's company. Time passed; fifteen minutes, half an hour, an hour. For the first time since meeting Kisshu last night, Ichigo found herself tranquil. When she thanked Masaya for coming, she heard a tone of distinct contentment in her voice. Her smile was easy, free from tension, as she walked him to the door.

"Momomiya-san."

"Hai?" He stopped just before leaving, turning around to face her in the open doorway. Reaching into his pocket, he held a small white box wrapped in pale pink ribbon before her, placing it into her hands.

"I hadn't gotten you a present yet." Such a simple statement, but what a reaction it provoked within her! That familiar blush spread across her cheeks; her smile turned small, bashful. Taking the gift, carefully untying the ribbon, she opened the box, a small gasp meeting the sight of a pair of earrings, beautiful blue teardrops, a perfect complement to the "Tears of Christmas" amulet she had given him.

"Arigatou," she whispered, suddenly overcome with a streak of… there was no word for how she felt, not really. She could only smile at him and repeat her thank you. The moment lasted for a few more seconds, though Ichigo happily felt it as an eternity, before Aoyama gently embraced her and left. She shut the door behind him, sighing happily, turning around to rest against the door, exquisite earrings resting in her tender grasp.

The next minutes would have been perfect; she would have basked in the romantic glory of the last hour or so had it not been for one minor detail. As she turned, a flash of movement occurred in the corner of her eye. A tiny flash, that was all. It was so small that it could have been easily disregarded as silly imagination, had Ichigo not been so painfully certain of what had just happened.

Laying the precious earrings on the table, she rain up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time, anger slowly twisting her features until she reached her room. She fairly flung the door open with a livid snarl of "How _dare_ you?"

If possible, Kisshu was as angry as she; the vicious expression on his face suggested that his feelings were even more violent.

"So you're still with him, huh? You haven't figured it out yet, how pitiful he is, how—"

"Shut up! Shut up you… you useless _pervert_! How dare you say anything like that about Aoyama-kun?"

Kisshu made to reply, but Ichigo's voice, shrill and rising in volume with each breath, ruthlessly cut him off.

"He's so sweet, and kind, and wonderful, how can you—"

"I'm a hundred times what he'll ever—"

It would have been quite accurate to say that at this point Ichigo had lost control of her actions. What she viewed as the sheer audacity of Kisshu watching her during a private, tender moment with Masaya and then going so far as to insult whom she considered to be the absolute focus of her teenage existence sent her over the edge; she flew right over and into the canyon of rage below. This was probably why she screamed what she screamed at Kisshu.

"You'll never be _anything_ next to him! Ever! You're _horrible_, and I'd never, ever go with you, even if he vanished from this Earth!"

At another time, Kisshu may have reacted to her words with a vicious rush of fury; he may have made it his mission then to find Masaya and rip his throat out in front of Ichigo's horrified eyes. At another time, he might have reacted with all the wrath his temper could unleash.

This time, to Ichigo's utter surprise, the alien fell silent. Instead of shining with that wild anger, his eyes dulled. His entire body seemed to sag; even his long ears seemed to droop. The change was so instantaneous and so unexpected, that Ichigo's anger evaporated in milliseconds. It was too late, however. It seemed that something in Kisshu's mind had undergone a fateful snap.

"All right, Ichigo," he murmured in a voice reminiscent of the night before, that voice of vulnerability that had shaken the girl to her core. "I… I understand." What happened next caused her heart to leap in that sudden jolt of fear.

The alien boy looked up at her, a sad smile complementing the dull eyes. "I should go now, shouldn't I?"

He did not wait for an answer, and the girl, in a state of confused shock, offered none. She watched, mouth open yet mute, as the air around the alien wavered, and he disappeared from her room.

Gone. He was gone. What…how…? Ichigo stared at the space he had been occupying just a few moments before.

It never occurred to her to be happy or that her problems of the past day or so were solved. The thought that no Kisshu meant less worry never came to her; all she could think of was that the space he had just stood in was empty.

The minutes ticked by, and still she didn't, couldn't, move. Gone… gone… where did he go…how would he… what was he…? Questions flooded her numb mind as her gaze slowly moved to the window as her lips formed his name, "Kisshu…"

Now a sudden swift mental slap hit her hard, pulling a gasp from her paralyzed throat. He had just left, left to go goodness knew where. Left into the snow. Left without companions to help him. Left… because of her.

She was suddenly very aware of Kisshu's own frightening mortality.

_What have I done?_

* * *

Author's Note: Ok. I blame that overly-emotional fiasco on watching episode 45. Damn Aoyama and his evil… Hmph. 1:14. Not bad. I'm going to bed :P Read and review if you can, please. 


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Note: Man, thanks to calculus and my teacher's lack of actual _teaching_, I am in the most vicious mood. Biting something looks like a really good idea right now. That said, we can move on to the story

BlackWingedGabriel: The ears, you say? Damn. I _like_ those ears. Can we do a timeshare on those? Switch off every week or so?

Mimiru-Sama and KishxIchigo and ReccaxYanagi and SetoxSerenity Forever: Yes. We must all kill Masaya. Sheebs can help us now, after the annoyance brought on by episodes 17 and 18

samuraislygirl: We all need hugs, on the inside XP

Sheebita: Hehe. Toni had a wondrous birthday, as I'm sure you know. And I'm so happy I've converted you… sorta. Now we have Toni as the Ichigo hater, you as the Aoyama hater, and me as the Aoyama hater and Kisshu lover. Eh… right! Well, at least together we can burn Masaya at the stake, brainwash Ichigo, and make Kish happy. And dun worry about Ryou; he gets Lettuce. Thank goodness for Lettuce. I wish we could just clone that amazing girl and hand her out to all lonely men. She rocks. Oh yes, she does. If only Ichigo had her amazingness… sigh

Toni, happy birthday again! I'm writing this at… lesse… 11:30, night of your B-day. Goodbye, sleep. Goodbye Lear, too, actually. I suppose we can just forget about finishing Act I… ah well. On to chappie 7!

* * *

_What do I do? WhatdoIdowhatdoidowhatdoido?_

Ichigo stood, eyes wide and vacant in her shock, staring at the snow begin to fall outside her window.

_It's starting to snow. I should go find him before it gets too bad. I'll take Masha, and I'll go track him down, and I'll…_

Her thoughts trailed off to nowhere; her body remained frozen.

_I'll take Masha, and I'll…_

_If I go now, before it gets too bad…_

A sudden gust of wind forced the snowflakes to quicken their downward journey, and the swift movement broke her paralysis.

He was gone, gone into that unforgiving weather, and she had to do something _now_.

_If I don't…and he… it's all my fault…_

That was her central thought as she grabbed Masha, ignoring its protesting squeak, and bounded down the stairs. This was _her_ fault. Kisshu was hurt. He could die. It was all because of _her_. Her fault, her responsibility, her stupid temper… This merry-go-round of guilt slowly played in her head, and she had to blink away tears as she tugged her coat out of the closet and pulled it on.

A moment later, she was standing out in the growing snow fall, looking up and down the empty street.

_How am I going to…?_

She shook the thought away, more tears running down her cheeks. It didn't matter _how_. Why in the world did she even consider asking the question?

Ever since he had appeared, ever since he had come to her in a time of dire need, to her alone, he had become her responsibility. She had ruined it all in the worst way, and asking questions instead of acting would ensure his death, a death she was _responsible_ for.

"Masha. I need you to find an alien," she told the floating puff of fur as it bobbed up and down in its customary place beside her. "I need you to find—"

"Alien! Ichigo, there's an alien!"

She blinked in utter disbelief. She hadn't even gotten out of the yard…

"Hey!"

The girl whipped around to her left, eyes landing on the small form of Taruto. Not Kisshu. Definitely not Kisshu. The dear hope she had been clinging to vanished; she let out of choked gasp of despair as the younger alien looked up at her.

Only after gathering her thoughts, composing herself as much as she could, she realized that a deep, intense anger burned within his gaze. She had never thought much of Taruto; his older companions had always been the greater concern in battle, but now she found herself intrigued, if not disturbed, by the ferocious emotion in his eyes.

All she could blurt out was a lame "What do you want?"

"Where is he!"

If his gaze had disturbed her, the fury in his voice terrified her. She took a step back as he glared at her, teeth gritted, little fists clenched. Seconds passed, and he seemed to have no patience for her speechlessness.

"Well?"

Ichigo had to swallow the growing lump in her throat before she could even hope to answer him.

"H-he… I…"

"What did you do to him!" It was more irate scream than real question. Ichigo suddenly realized that the alien was shaking, and she was rather sure it wasn't with cold. The thought came as a true mental slap. _He's…he's trying not to cry_…

Again, she couldn't speak, and Taruto went on, voice overly loud with his attempt to control its trembling.

"Deep Blue wouldn't let us help him. He wouldn't let us _near_ him, and Kisshu thought you… he thought…"

She had been right; Deep Blue had ordered banishment. The true horror of the situation dawned on her. Kisshu had been denied the only help he could really depend on; he had been rejected. His companions had been… she looked at the anguish on Taruto's face… forced to abandon him. He had come to her because… why? It was the only part missing. Why had he…?

"Why?" she murmured, making a sudden effort to maintain eye contact with the young alien. "Why did he come to me?"

There was a break in the anger; Taruto faltered. He stared back at her, momentarily bewildered, before his face hardened. Ichigo realized, almost descending into panic, that maybe she just didn't want that question answered.

"I don't know. I guess he's just stupid." The hate in his voice took her breath away; she choked.

Stupid… stupid for wanting her… stupid for trusting her…

Trusting her.

_Her_.

He had trusted her. She had sentenced him to death.

What had _he_ done to deserve this? Watched her? So he had watched her, seen her with Aoyama-kun. So he had said those things, things he always said. So he had become angry, like always.

Had she had the right to—? How could she have—?

"Taruto," she began, her voice trembling so badly, she could hardly speak above a whisper.

"How can I find him?"

It was plain to see that he was taken aback. For a moment, words failed him, but then, "You're going to—"

"Please, Taruto. I'm sorry. Please, yell at me later. Just tell me how I can find him!" She finished in a full, heart-wrenching cry. The desperation in her voice finally reached the young one; he looked down at the ground, then back up at her.

"He likes the park with the duck pond. I don't know if he's there, but—"

She was running before he finished his first sentence; in the middle of the second, she was out of hearing range.

Taruto stared after her, a frown firmly on his features, the cold worry that had settled into his stomach weeks ago still pulsing with its depressing persistence.

_I wish_…

He shook his head sadly. There was no sense in wishing, no hope lying anywhere but in her. Deep Blue had spoken, and he and Pai could do nothing. Nothing, but pray that this silly human girl could live up to their friend's expectations.

_Pai…I should get back to Pai and at least tell him…_

Loyal to Deep Blue as the oldest alien was, he had been markedly depressed for the last week.

With that last thought, Taruto teleported back to their dimension, leaving silence in his wake.

* * *

AN: Hehe… cliffie… Dun worry, next chapter will be up real soon, probably complete with fluffy goodness. I can't leave myself with a cliffie. But it's 1:30 AM. I have school tomorrow…. yay school. Read and review, please! 


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews . I am so pleasantly surprised at all the Aoyama-hate floating around out there. It's so wonderful to find kindred spirits; fine people to make an army of when the day to kill Masaya finally comes… :P

Sorry for the cliffhanger! That wasn't meant to be there; the convo between Ichigo and Taruto just kinda got out of control, and I didn't feel like shoving too much into one chapter. I like keeping my chappies short and rather… thematic, in a sense. Thus, I couldn't add a whole different scene to it. Breaks my balance :P Besides, I had to go to sleep. Had a physics test today….which I didn't know about until teacher told us to take out our pencils…I guess that doesn't count then, eh?

Toni: Hehe. Yup, it was a happy birthday to you. And don't worry; you know I feel the Ichigo-hate, but remember, we all have to think of Kish. If we kill Ichigo, what would he do? If only he would somehow accept Lettuce, goddess that she is…

BlackWingedGabriel: I dunno… we're gonna have to work out some sort of a deal here… you thinking of de-earing him? I think he's rather fond of his ears… There has to be some compromise we can negotiate here. And yes, evil cliffie. Sorry 'bout that .

KishISmyOBSESSION: Plushie, thou sayeth? Sylvia wanteth a plushie… Sylvia wanteth it quite badly… pokes Toni Does Flushing have those?

Mimiru-sama: Your passionate abhorrence of Aoyama makes my heart sing with joy I'm assuming that by the whole sleeping thing, you mean when she turns kitty by accident? If that's not in, then I'm missing something big (I don't read manga, only watch anime).

Everyone else whom I cannot list because it's 11:00 and I need to start now in order to keep my tradition: Thanks for the reviews . Some of you guys are asking for more characters; I'm slow with fics (Toni and Sheebs know that). I like drawing things out for my own odd sense of realism, so be patient xP. I may add more, I may not. Depends on how things go. I'll see how I feel in a few chapters.

That out of the way, let's move on, shall we?

Disclaimer: Don't own it, never have, never will. The proof is in episode 45; if I owned TMM, Aoyama's head would have exploded and we could all live happily ever after. Except for Toni, who wants Ichigo's head to explode, and that can't happen because Kisshu would be sad, and then all the rabid Kish fangirls (myself included) would have to go on a renewed rampage. So… erm… yea. Onward we go.

* * *

Ichigo's breath rasped in her throat as she ran; a single thought reverberated through her mind:

_Gotta find him, now. Now, now, now…_

It was lucky that she had lived here for so long; the way to the park was instinctive to her. Had it been a thinking matter, she wouldn't have been able to focus. Thankfully, her legs knew precisely where she needed to go, and within the next few minutes she arrived at the park gates, wheezing, out of breath, but still firmly grounded in her mission. After only a few seconds pause to ease her breathing, she took a good look around.

This entrance (for the park fence had many gates) opened upon the park's bare field. During warmers months, children would play soccer here, or tag. Often, there would be kids flying kites or playing with their dogs. Today, as the snowfall intensified, the place was silent. More importantly, Ichigo thought, it showed no sign of Kisshu.

She ran forward, across the field, through the trees, constantly looking about her, constantly listening for Masha's customary announcement. After a few minutes of this, she reached the pond Taruto had mentioned, a duck pond of medium size that was barely visible under a growing layer of snow on its frozen surface.

Frigid despair gripped her; perhaps, because of Taruto's mentioning the pond specifically, she had been sure that Kisshu would be here. No such luck.

The wind blew with sudden ferocity, as if reminding her how precious little time she had. What had he been wearing? A night shirt and pants? There was no chance he could survive, not in the already weak state he was in. The thought brought fresh tears to her eyes, and they stung in the cutting gale.

"Kisshu!" her voice rose above the steady whistling of the wind, a desperate plea that echoed, then fell silent. She screamed it again. "Kisshu!"

No answer. Terror gripping her, she realized that even if he heard her, he may not have been able to answer.

"Masha!" The robot faced her with a questioning look on its furry little face. "Can you scan for aliens within this park? Can you—?"

It cut her off with its cheerful voice. "Masha can, Masha can!"

A stark contrast to the robot's bright attitude, tense silence robbed Ichigo of her voice as she waited, nails digging into her palms, for its answer. After what seemed a torturous eternity, Masha reported.

"Alien! Alien! There's an alien ahead!"

"Where?"

"There." The little machine floated in the direction of the playground. Ichigo followed without hesitation.

"Kisshu! Kisshu…"

She stopped in mid-run only because the relief felt as if it had forcibly stopped her heart. It lasted for only a fraction of a second; the sheer sight of him willed her forward with a ragged cry of his name.

He had sheltered himself under the playground slide; it was no where near the best place to be, and Ichigo recognized it immediately. He had either been so torn by her behavior that he hadn't been thinking clearly, or his physical state made it impossible for him to move about for too long. It had probably been a merciless combination of both.

At the sound of his name, he looked up slowly, his eyes taking a while to focus on her before he murmured her name. "Ichigo…"

She uttered a soft sob, part frustrated guilt, and part blessed relief at the fact that he had recognized her. A smile began to form, full of her absolute gladness, as she took her first steps towards him. Suddenly, again, she froze.

His eyes, though dull and slightly unfocused, were laced with a fair amount of uncertainty, of doubt, even… she bit her lip… anger. It was all barely visible, but it was there. It shone through even more, and she let out a soft gasp, as he began to lift his hands. Unsteady on his feet, shivering violently in the relentless snowfall, barely lucid, he watched her with an ever-growing wariness in his golden eyes.

_He's trying to_… Ichigo brought her hands to her mouth, absolutely frozen. Not because she was afraid; she knew he could do nothing to her the way he was. It was because he was trying, in his condition, to summon the weapons he normally used. It dawned on her with stomach-turning abruptness that she had hurt him enough to cause him to reject _her_ advances.

The snow continued to fall with a mocking tranquility. All she was aware of was the sound of his breath, shallow, weak, raspy, but determined as he kept his unsteady stare on her. All she knew was that vicious guilt; as she watched him bring his trembling arms up, something within snapped, and she suddenly regained her movement.

"I'm sorry."

He paused, hands nearly in the summoning position, eyes struggling to remain open as he maintained his gaze.

"I'm so sorry, Kisshu."

Her eyes met his, shining with warmth, with a need for forgiveness that she would have never thought she could feel towards him.

A heart beat later, she was catching him as he fell forward, the strength fueled by his anger disappearing.

_Oh…Oh my God…_

She was wholly shocked by the deathly iciness of his skin; a human would surely have died by now.

The first thing she did was, laying him against her and balancing carefully, to take off her jacket and drape it over his shoulders. Wrapping her arms around him, she stood tentatively, unsure of whether he would follow or not. Warm relief flooded her as he rose with her, shakily, but able to stand as long as he leaned against her.

"Come on," she murmured, leading him forward slowly, one arm perpetually around him in a vain attempt to share some of her warmth.

With what seemed like painful slowness to her, they exited the park and made their way back.

As they did, and as she became more and more aware of the feel of his body against hers, those habitual thoughts, forever obsessed with Aoyama, attempted to make themselves heard. This time, however, Ichigo didn't blush. She didn't even blink.

She was aware, as they reached the front door and she pulled the key out of her pocket, that something had just changed. It had begun when she had first seen him last night, had first been entrusted with his care, and it had grown quietly, secretly, while she tended to him. It had faltered when Aoyama came, almost died during that awful confrontation that had led to this, but now… now, she could feel it again. It had reclaimed its power with that fateful mental snap as Kisshu had attempted to drive her away, and now it pulsed steadily beneath her psyche.

As she opened the door and led the alien in, she realized that it was something she couldn't ignore, something she'd have to face, and soon. Yet even as she thought these thoughts, she pushed them back. As Kisshu trembled against her, she focused on the more immediate; unconsciously drawing the boy closer to her, she quietly led him upstairs, her resolve strengthened.

* * *

Author's Note: Ok… 12:50 AM! Yay! Read and review please, I'm going to bed. Ooh.. thunderstorm's started… 


	9. Chapter 9

Author's Note: Ok, I'm gonna keep this note short, cuz I feel like sleeping tonight :P

BlackWingedGabriel: The weekly basis works fine I hope you enjoy yourself. Know I will :P

Dust-in: Thanks for the compliment I hope my writing continues to meet your expectations.

Silent KrysOfDeath: Yes, Masaya should die. A million deaths. It would make a great movie . Are you by any chance ShikyoNoKrys? Cuz if you are, kudos to you. Your fics are hilarious . Oh, and chapter length…. _shrug_. I like shorter chapters. Allows me to write once a night and still somehow sleep . They also kinda end up that long whether I try for longer or not, and I'm used to drabbles, anyway. Guess it's a habit :P

Everyone else whom I dun name cuz I wanna go sleep :P : Thanks for the reviews . Hope you enjoy the next chapter. So, without further ado…

Disclaimer: Dun own it. As many of my teachers say, the proof is in the pudding :P. Oh, and if I _did_ own it, I wouldn't have given rights to 4Kids. _That_ is a travesty in itself.

* * *

Ichigo gently led Kisshu down the hallway, nudging open her door and sitting him down on her bed. If she hadn't been so occupied with worry, she would have found the situation rather interesting; the last time she had been in this room, her feelings towards him had been so very different…

She shook her head, desperately trying to curb those thoughts. They were important, she knew, but they would have to wait. The iciness of Kisshu's skin reminded her of that. Only one thing mattered now, and that was warming the poor boy before he slipped into a possibly permanent unconsciousness.

How to do it, though? A frown furrowed the cat-girl's brow as she frantically pondered the question. Ideally… ideally, she would have a supply of heated blankets and the like, but, judging by the last day, the ideal would remain far from her reach. Thus, she was left with… with… She was a young teenage girl and, life-threatening or not, the situation and its only apparent solution inspired a tinge of pink in her cheeks. _No_._ I _have_ to do this. It's all I can do…_

"Kisshu." He failed to meet her eyes. She crouched down before him, trying to grasp his attention. It took a great deal of her courage to keep from panicking at the glazed look in his eyes.

"Kisshu!" she spoke louder, allowing some of her anxiety to leak into her tone, and the shivering alien suddenly looked at her, seeming surprised, as if he hadn't noticed her there before. As if she had been _different_ before… She bit the inside of her cheek; she couldn't worry about _that_ now. Later, when this unnatural vulnerability was gone; later, when his life wasn't in danger because of her abominable foolishness…

Suddenly wanting to reassure him, she forced a nervous smile. "Kisshu, you're going to have to take this shirt off, all right?" She had to get that wet thing off of him if she could ever hope to warm him.

"I'm tired…" he murmured, and Ichigo's composure faltered when his eyes began to close. Sudden fear seizing her, she grabbed his shoulders and shook him lightly, quickly remembering that he still had that gash crossing from shoulder to chest.

He didn't answer her, but her purpose seemed to reach him; he made to remove the night shirt, but his hands were trembling too badly. Quickly seeing that it was useless, the girl softly ordered him to hold his arms up as high as he could and carefully pulled the shirt up over his head. Throwing the soaked garment, along with her jacket, over her desk chair, she immediately grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around the alien's trembling shoulders.

_Not good enough, not enough_, she continued to remind herself, and her next decision was made with a forced disregarding of that little voice in the back of her head softly reminding her of Aoyama's shining brown eyes, his soothing voice, his loving touch. Had that voice not been weakened by the urgent nature of the situation, she may have hesitated, but it had been. She could barely hear it as she hastily changed into a set of dry pajamas. For the smallest moment, she balked at the idea of changing with the alien in the same room, but a single glance at his hunched over, shivering form simply drove all such foolish modesty from her mind; she wouldn't need to change under-garments, anyway. And it was _her fault_.

Clad in her warmest set of pajamas, the girl returned to the bed, sitting down next to her charge and shaking him lightly by the shoulder.

"Come… come here, Kisshu." Her voice shook as the gravity of what she meant to do hit her. Nevertheless, she continued, pulling the boy to her, unwrapping the blanket from around him and wrapping it around the both of them, then pulling the other blankets over them. A few moments later, she lay with the shivering alien against her, both wrapped snugly.

At this point, what she was doing hit her. It _really_ hit her, and she found herself suddenly nervous about touching him, even just allowing her skin to brush against his. The prospect of it terrified her, and as she stared at him, she pulled back, suddenly desperate to keep away, to try to seize back what was so close to being lost. As she lay, tense, anxiously trying to avoid contact in the compromising position she had put herself in, she managed a good look at the alien boy's face; a good, long look taken with eyes full of doubt. Yet, as they held their gaze, as the boy curled up in a desperate effort to conserve his own body heat, they softened. The doubt in them melted away, and a few tears slowly ran down her cheeks. That guilt was back; it permeated her psyche as she tentatively reached out to feel Kisshu's skin. Her stomach clenched, her eyes blurred, when its iciness registered against her fingertips.

Slowly, her teeth an uneasy pressure on her bottom lip, she wrapped one arm securely around his torso, then the second, constantly aware of her move she was making, constantly aware of his tremors, and of the bandage covering half his chest. A small voice reminded her that later, she'd have to change it. A faint red showed through its white fibers; he had probably opened the wound again.

When her body first came into full contact with Kisshu's, she uttered a soft gasp, partly because of the impossible coldness of his skin, but also because her mind was frantically reminding her that this was _Kisshu_, her enemy, her relentless stalker and tormentor. This was not Aoyama-kun's shivering body huddling next to hers for warmth; her fingers were not resting against Aoyama-kun's bare chest. She did not smell his tender scent; his black hair was not tickling her cheek.

This was not Masaya, yet as the minutes ticked by, Ichigo relaxed anyway. The tension left her muscles; her breath grew steadier. After a while, she gathered herself again and began to rub Kisshu's arms as furiously as she could without aggravating his injury in an attempt to help his blood circulate.

A few minutes of this left her surprisingly exhausted, and she allowed herself to rest, arms still wrapped around Kisshu, struggling to keep her eyes open. Help in that department came rather unexpectedly; the alien, who she had thought too weak and exhausted to follow her actions, gave a soft, shaking sigh before burying his face in her chest, a barely-audible "Ichigo" breaking her drowsiness.

Again, her first reaction was a wave of revulsion; persistent reminders of her love, her life, her mission filled her consciousness as the barely-lucid Kisshu gently nuzzled her, curling up against her for her precious warmth, a pleading pressure against her chest.

Her heart raced. Her mind swam. Her cheeks, caressed by feathery strands of Kisshu's hair, blazed scarlet. For a few moments, she could hear only the pounding of her blood in her ears, could only feel Kisshu's trembling body against her tense one.

Then, as if a spell had been cast, her anxiety waned. Her mind cleared, and she found her lips being tugged into a tender smile. Her hand, so hesitant just a few seconds ago, came to a rest on Kisshu's head. Slowly at first, then with growing ease, she smoothed back his hair, running her fingers through it in an attempt to… _I'm just fixing it a bit_, she told her logic, yet underneath that shell of denial ran the thought: _It'll help him feel better_.

Gradually, the shivers wracking his body diminished, and his breathing evened out. After a while, Ichigo patted him gently, murmured his name, and confirmed that he had, indeed, fallen asleep. She noted that his skin was warmer. Not precisely as warm as she knew it should have been, but a definite improvement. With a quiet sigh, she decided it was all right to allow him full sleep.

Finally granted relief from her worry, Ichigo drifted into stray thoughts, quickly delving into those that had been vying for attention for the last few hours. Those familiar voices quickly began issuing their reprimands:

_This isn't Aoyama-kun!_

_Kisshu's an enemy. He's going to… he'll… he can…_

_You're hugging him. You're actually touching him! How _can_ you?_

But this time, oh, if she had been more alert, if she hadn't been swimming in fatigue and blessed relief, she would have noticed that this time, those thoughts were lost in the tenderness resonating with each beat of her heart. They were strangled by the way his body nestled against hers, by the undeniable need he had for her, by the inescapable feeling of peace this moment inspired, the peace she reveled in, yet did not recognize because it instilled such a deep feeling of calm.

The thoughts disappeared into the silence, replaced with a soft exhaustion that gently forced Ichigo's eyes closed. The last thought she had before slumber took her into its waiting arms, was a bemused, _What am I doing? _Its existence was short-lived; as Ichigo drifted off, one arm wrapped around Kisshu, her other hand resting against his hair, it dissolved into the realm of _Later, later…_, and was extinguished by a drowsy _It doesn't matter…_

* * *

Author's Note: Eh…k. Yea. That's chapter 9, folks . Sorry for the lack of daily updating; I think I needed some sleep. Just a little :P Oh, and work started back up again. Yay animal hospital! Read and review, please. 


	10. Chapter 10

Author's Note: Ok, before I start with the review responses, let me just vent a mite.

What in the hell is _wrong_ with Ichigo in episode 45? Eh? Toni, you're with me here, aren't you? I just finished rewatching the ep, and between my Masaya-hate and a new spark of Ichigo-_loathing_, I don't know what to do with these characters! I mean, if Ichigo can't get it through her thick little skull that Kisshu is totally devoted to her after that entire show, then how much of a brain does she _have_? Dammit, if Kisshu didn't love her so much, I'd do an Ichigo-killing fanfic. How… unfortunate. If only we could just clone Lettuce and hand her out to men; she's a _goddess_, while Ichigo has some sort of a mental handicap that forces her to become ridiculously obsessed with one-dimensional _imbeciles_ while ignoring someone who goes and dies for her. Oi. Flaming. _Vey_.

Ok… deep breath. 'sigh'. Lovely . Let's stow that murderous rage away for another time… say a Masaya-death fic.

Now, on to the thank you's and random comments.

BlackWingedGabriel: Hehehe…. I know. The fluff is murder. Ah well :P

KishxIchigo and….etc: Meh. I'm lazy today. Yea.. I dunno if my parents actually _know_ what I'm doing up this late. Which is quite useful. And I have no life… which is also quite useful in this case .

samuraislygirl: Updating as we speak.

Super Lucky Tiki Charm: Updating, updating.

Sheebita and Toni: Crazy fluff monsters… we've already discussed chapter nine. And the squealing. Twas funny :P

Dust-in: Last, but certainly not least. Now, about your suggestion… it is perhaps the freakiest case of ESP I've seen so far :P. About an hour before getting your review, I was sitting and contemplating how to shove PaixLettuce into this fic. So, in answer to your suggestion… yea, I prolly will. Lettuce is goddess, after all.

Now, without further ado, we get to our lovely Disclaimer.

Disclaimer: Go watch episode 45. That in itself is proof that I do not own TMM.

* * *

When Kisshu's eyes opened, his blurred vision told him nothing of his surroundings; his cloudy mind did little to help, either. For a few moments, he laid half-conscious, dimly wondering where he was and what it was that he was lying against. It was soft, warm, and as he came to himself, he found that it had a sweet, tender scent that compelled him to huddle even closer to it. 

As he made that small movement, he realized that an arm was draped over him, and a light weight rested against his head. Some more movement told him that the weight was a hand, and its fingers were tangled him is hair. This all came with a sharp pain in his chest, a swift reminder of the events of the past two weeks. For a few seconds, he digested this information, his sleep-ridden brain painfully slow, before coming to the final question of exactly what he was lying against.

_Or who, actually, because this…this…_

The name came as both a jolt of surprise and a blessedly granted wish. _Ichigo_.

His eyes focused on her face, on her long, delicate lashes, on the strands of strawberry hair messily that hung over her forehead as she slumbered peacefully. A minute ticked by, and he remained frozen, partially in utter confusion at his position, but mostly, overwhelmingly, because he did not want to wake her.

The moment… he could not have imagined, in his wildest fantasies, a more perfect image, a more blissful feeling than this. For so long… so very long… He had wished for this for so very long; every time he saw her, he'd dream of a chance like this, a chance to just be with her. It was something he knew she did not understand; his actions toward her were always so impish or cruel. He was possessive, and he knew this. He was somewhat tyrannical, and he knew this as well, yet that did not change his core, nor the fact that she could hardly guess it. She could never guess how blissful a moment such as this was, how he desired such a thing every time he felt her presence, heard her voice, saw her shining eyes…

It always came out wrong; his nature always twisted it all. He always failed. Yet now… now, if he could just keep from waking her… if he could just allow sleep to govern, perhaps the dream would not have to end.

Such were his thoughts as he watched the sleeping Ichigo, as he moved ever closer to her, closer to her soft, tender lips. One kiss… one kiss, and it would be perfect. One kiss, and he would relinquish control to slumber and hope against all that sleep could preserve the moment.

That precious kiss was stolen from him by a sudden, maddening tickle in his throat and a vicious searing pain jumping from shoulder to chest, causing him to jerk back in utter shock before the tickle forced a ragged cough from him, shaking his thin frame violently.

He would have cursed in frustration had the sudden physical agony not been so complete. The cough robbed him of breath, and had it not, he would have likely screamed at the fiery pain consuming his left side. Had he been able to, he would have cursed it all, because it not only took the kiss, but woke Ichigo.

The girl's period of blissful ignorance was dramatically shorter than Kisshu's; very quickly, she remembered where she was, whom she was with, and what had happened. A millisecond after that, she realized what had awoken her, and wasted no time in trying to help.

"Kisshu," she murmured his name, soft, slightly drowsy voice heavily laced with concern as she began to gently pat the alien on the back, trying to quiet him. A few moments of this proved futile; the icy edge of panic began to cut into her psyche as she sat up straight, grabbing the boy by the shoulders and straightening him as well, holding him up until the hacking subsided, leaving Kisshu wheezing softly.

Both were thoroughly awake now, and both realized with the same stab of dread that the situation had worsened overnight. Ichigo's expression changed from sleepy to sharply concerned as she gave the alien a good look.

He was starkly pale, even for his race, though his cheeks were flushed. His eyes were oddly bright, and a sheen of sweat shone on his forehead. As he slowly gained his breath back, he identified a feeling of weakness and a strange chill despite the warm nest of blankets Ichigo had created. Worst of all was the burning in his throat, only intensified after the coughing episode, which he suddenly felt would not be his last. Fully awake, he realized that he felt awful.

It only made him wish for that sweet, peaceful ecstasy of a few minutes ago even more.

This wistful thought was interrupted by Ichigo's voice.

"Hold still, ok, Kisshu?" Without waiting for a response, the girl reached out and placed a gentle hand on the alien's forehead, worry creasing her face as her fears were realized.

Of course he was feverish; what could she possibly expect after all that had happened? She should have expected it from the night he appeared before her (his usual outfit could hardly be called appropriate for being out in snowfall), and it probably became a given the moment he left her house and spent that half hour or so in the snow, already weakened from previous exposure.

Nevertheless, no matter how expected the diagnosis, Ichigo's heart sank as she watched the boy shiver from a sudden chill, and a sudden pang of tenderness struck her.

She gently pushed the boy back down onto the bed, unwrapping the blankets from around herself as she did so. As she smoothed the covers around him, she was rather surprised to feel the beginnings of tears in her eyes. _It's all gotten worse. What am I supposed to do now? I don't know how to cure…_

She was even more surprised by the sound of his voice, raspy, weak, yet still holding a trace of his usual cunning.

"Leaving already?"

She looked down at him, stunned, almost wondering if she should scold him for what appeared to be another of his lewd comments, but a simple glance at his face drove that from her mind.

His smirk was there, wan, but there. His eyes held that familiar spark, yet it was dulled by the force of pain, weakness, even fear. Even more intriguing, they held…perhaps, it was her imagination…concern? At first, the notion seemed ridiculous, yet suddenly, she remembered certain times, certain moments that his eyes had been different. Like that night the tapir chimera anima had nearly taken the Mew Mews. That night that had started all of this. That night… she was not quite sure of what had happened that night, but she remembered that same look in his eyes. She remembered how it had confused her, nearly frightened her, how it had caused her to let him slip from her grasp.

Ichigo knew, with no doubt, that she could not let the same thing happen again. No matter what the past said, she had to be different now.

Instead of the snap that his tone may have inspired, she answered with a smile filled with all the reassurance she could muster in her anxiety. "I'm going to get a thermometer, ok? I'll be right back."

Again, to her surprise, he had no more to say. Kisshu lay back against the pillow, a light cough shaking him as she left the room.

As she rummaged through the medicine cabinet, she bit her lip, hands trembling as the icy edge of panic threatened to cut into her psyche. How could she possibly get through this _now_? It had been different when he had had only a wound. Sure, it was a deep wound, but a few days of bed rest could have allowed him to regain enough strength to be able to take care of himself.

Now… now, it was all so infinitely worse, and the more horrible aspect of it (and she physically cringed when she acknowledged this) was that it was, undeniably, her fault. It was through her rashness and insensitivity that he had fallen so ill so quickly, her fault that she found herself faced with a situation she did not know how to handle.

All this occupied her mind as she left the bathroom with thermometer in hand. As she walked down the hallway, another set of thoughts assaulted her.

_You just slept with Kisshu_.

She gritted her teeth, frustrated that it would have to wait, annoyed that she had to face that alien boy with these thoughts running dangerously close to her normal train of thought. How desperately she wanted to sort it out! Yet… perhaps it was best that she didn't. Not yet. Somehow, she knew that the results may not be what she expected, nor what she believed she wanted. Somehow, she knew that later was best.

Still, it didn't stop those butterflies of doubt from performing their customary dance in the pit of her stomach.

Ichigo returned to the bedside, taking the thermometer from its casing before sitting down in her desk chair beside Kisshu, holding the instrument before him.

"This is a thermometer. It measures your body temperature. You're going to have to hold it under your tongue for a little while, all right?" She waited for a few seconds, wondering if he would be difficult, but he only nodded (inside, she cringed at the terrible pallor in his face), obediently opening his mouth for her to slip it underneath his tongue.

The thing was electric, and it took only a few seconds for it to register his temperature. She took it out and read it. Thirty-nine degrees Celsius. A few moments of staring at it made her realize that she didn't actually know an alien's normal body temperature. Blushing slightly at the unexpected bout of her annoyingly habitual ditziness, she cleared her throat nervously before asking.

"What's your normal temperature? In our degrees?"

Due to the silence that followed, she thought that the question was too difficult for him in his current state, and was about to interrupt his thinking, when he murmured "Thirty-five."

_Thirty-five. Thirty-nine and thirty-five… that's… that's _bad.

"You… you're sick, Kisshu." _Um… well, duh._ She regretted it the moment she had said it, and she was obviously not the only one to see the comment's stupidity.

"I could have told you that, ko—" he broke off coughing, and her own shame vanished as the pain returned to his face. She could only wait until he stopped, though she did place a hand on his head, unconsciously stroking his hair as the episode ended. Her worry only intensified when she realized it had weakened him beyond finishing his quip. He lay trembling slightly under her touch, breathing slowly and a little too shallowly for her liking. She bit her lip again. Somewhere in a corner of her mind, she wondered if, eventually, she'd bite her lip through and taste blood.

Not taking her eyes off the boy as she wondered what to do. She supposed… maybe human medicine would work on aliens? She could at least try it, as long as it wasn't poison. Some food wasn't a bad idea, either. More soup would work. And she still needed to change that bandage. Goodness knew the wound was certainly open _now_, after that hacking cough.

All this ran through her mind as she absentmindedly stroked his hair. Her other hand smoothed down the blankets. Had she been more aware, less steeped in her thoughts and anxiety, she may have seen that, mostly recovered from the attack, Kisshu watched her with an expression of curious contentment on his flushed face. She wasn't, so she spoke without noticing any of it.

"I'm going to go get some medicines." Now, however, she did notice a sudden spark of… what? Disappointment? Dull fear? Whatever it was, she realized that… he didn't want her to leave. She also knew that it was from none of his normal possessiveness. Suddenly, she became even more aware of the liquid fear in his eyes, and her concerned expression softened even more. A reassuring smile tugged at her lips.

"I'll be back soon. Just down the hall, ok?" She allowed her hand to rest on his forehead. She stood, but her eyes stayed on him, her smile never wavering, her need to comfort him overcoming her doubts with a force that would have shocked her had she been in the state to notice it.

"I promise."

Had she been paying attention to her thoughts, she would have known that those two simple words concerned so much more than a simple trip down the hall.

As usual, she didn't, but that didn't stop the phrase from giving Kisshu some much-needed comfort, and he relaxed as her hand ran against his hair once more before she left.

* * *

Author's Note: Oh God… 1:15 AM. Bio test tomorrow. I shall die. But it shall be a happy death. Read and review, please. 


	11. Chapter 11

Author's Note: Sorry for the wait! I have no idea what really took so long... but this one is longer! Mmyup  Anyway, let's see how many reviews we can anser. Not too many, just some essential question that need answering. It's 1:19 AM as I write this people. Please, spare me.

Jenvaati: Ep 44, eh? I think now as I write this, you've finished the series, according to your fic… 'strangles ep 45' That sucker was one hell of a viewing, wasn't it? Berserk Kish freaked you out:) Took me a while to get used to, but I'm good now. He reminds me of my character Mishou in that state 'glomps Mish'. So anyway… ep 45 is possibly the biggest _I must kill Ichigo_ ep _ever_. It converted my friend Toni. I may use it to convert Sheeba. Yay!

BlackWingedGabriel: Hehe.. prolly not. And I'm not even known for my fluff… ah well. It's about to get fluffier.

Dust-in: Hiyas :). You ask about where to get eps? I grab em off the IRC channel #honobono, but you have to know IRC to use that… e-mail me. I've already taught my friends.

DarkStarPhoenix: I know… so little good grammar on this site. Drives me nuts. Thanks for reviewing.

Mestophilies: Oh, I shall continue. Heck yea. Gives me something to do in biology class.

Everyone else: Thanks so much for your reviews, and sorry again for the long wait. Now, without further ado…

Disclaimer: Still don't own it. See? Look at ep 45. Look at the extremely sad Kisshu at the end of ep 45. Would I do this? Hells naw.

* * *

Ichigo had a habit of talking herself through difficult situations, and today was no exception. She rummaged through the medicine cabinet, frantically checking labels on any bottles that came within her reach. 

"Lesse… Tylenol… that should help. Motrin? Isn't that the same…oh, but this is children's. Erm…"

She let out a frustrated growl. "Why do we have so _many_ of these things?" Was it too much to ask to have a damned bottle saying "I will cure fever"? She stared at the impressive collection of medications, ranging from ibuprofen to salicylic acid, palms growing sore as her nails dug into them.

_Ok. Hold on. I have to calm down. This isn't helping_.

Taking a deep breath, the girl closed her eyes, trying to bring her thoughts into order. Almost immediately, the exact opposite happened, and she found tears threatening to run down her cheeks. She set one of the bottles down to wipe her eyes, but it was too late. Once one tear escaped, stopping the rest was futile. Unable to control the feelings that had been building up for so long, she hung her head and began to cry.

_What if he dies? What if he dies and it's all my fault? He came to me, _me_, thinking that I could help him when no one else would, and I've…I've…_ She sobbed, clapping a hand over her mouth, suddenly aware of the fact that she did not want him to hear her.

_It's hurting him, and I did it all… all of it… how could I have been so _stupid_? I shouldn't have yelled at him. I shouldn't have even invited Aoyama-kun in! How could I have been such an idiot? _

_He came to me… he came to me like that because… because…_

Because he had chosen her over his mission. He had… he had chosen to save her _life_. All of their lives.

He was always saying that he wanted her, that he loved her.

A sudden thought came to her, the harsh and shocking equivalent of a slap in the face.

What if… she had never considered it, never been faced with a situation that allowed her, or forced her, to analyze it carefully… he meant what he said?

What if he wasn't possessive for its own sake?

Again, that battle, those eyes, that desperate voice, flashed through her mind. The tears stopped as she stared at her own reflection in the mirror.

What if when he said he loved her… what if he…

She shook her head and wiped her tears. _I have to get back._

She gathered the bottles in her arms and hurried back to her room, all the while trying to ignore the irony of the urgency of the situation helping her avoid the delicate subject. As soon as she set the bottles on her night table and took her place at the bedside, she was able to temporarily forget those thoughts.

Temporarily.

It was always temporarily.

What would happen when there was nothing to distract her, no rescue?

Again, a firm shake of the head as she reached out, placing a hand on the alien's forehead. His eyes, closed when she came in, slowly opened and settled on her.

She prayed, suddenly very nervous about the fact, that he didn't notice that she had been crying. Ichigo did not want to cause him any more anxiety; she gave him what she hoped was a light, comforting smile. He said nothing, though whether this was because he truly did not notice, was too weak, or did not want to worry her, she did not know. Thankful for that small relief, she did not really care.

"You're going to have to sit up, ok? And you have to tell me whether you can take any of these or not."

The boy complied, slowly propping himself up on his elbows, gingerly pushing himself up into a sitting position as she watched, ever alert to catch him should he falter. Some of the anxious tension within her was released when he leaned back against the headboard, looking rather tired, yet still fully alert. He even gave her a small smile, though it was only for an instant. A rough cough quickly took it back, and Ichigo was swiftly reminded of her duty.

"These are for fever. They're all made with ibuprofen. Do you know if…?" she trailed off, eyes boring pleadingly into Kisshu's as she waited for what she hoped was a favorable answer. So vicious was her anxiety, that for a moment, she did not even want an answer. What if it was the wrong one?

Taking a few steadying breaths after the coughing spell, Kisshu closed his eyes as he thought, feeling the draining effects of illness even after the long sleep he had just woken from.

"I dunno," he mumbled, all of a sudden aware of a crippling exhaustion. He wanted to answer her, even recognized her own terrible worry, but could only focus on it in a dim corner of his mind; he was simply too exhausted, too ill to think clearly.

The reply was anything but what Ichigo had been hoping for. She clenched her fists, throat tightening as she prepared to unleash her nerves upon the boy in an angry outburst. This time, she managed to catch herself, eyes widening in an ashamed shock, teeth firmly biting her lip as she desperately calmed herself down.

_Of course he doesn't know; he's an alien. And even if he normally knows, it's not something he'd remember now…he's barely awake._

What now? Could she risk it? Give him the pills and hope they worked?

For a moment, she considered it, actually began to reach for the bottle of Tylenol.

The next moment saw her giving herself a sharp mental slap.

That sort of gamble was sheer stupidity.

She had already made mistakes here. Already, it was worse because of her. Leaving further room for error was idiocy.

Even so, the final verdict inspired a wave of despair in the girl. She hung her head, nails digging into her palms as she tried to reason with herself. A minute later, she rose, assured Kisshu of her quick return, and retrieved a cloth and bowl of cool water from the bathroom.

Once back, she told the boy to lie back down and gently placed the cold compress on his forehead, brightening as he gave a murmur of pleasure at its temperature; perhaps this would be enough? She watched as she closed his eyes before mumbling a soft "Thanks, koneko-chan" and drowsing.

Left with nothing to do but worry, she made another attempt at her math homework. An hour of this ended in an exasperated sigh as she left the failed problems to change the cloth.

As soon as she bent down to examine the boy, her face fell; a pang of icy fear stabbed at her heart. It was plain to see that his fever had not fallen; if anything, the bright flush on his cheeks and his labored breath hinted at a rise in temperature.

For a minute, as Ichigo robotically changed the compress, she felt close to tears once again.

She had to do _something_, but what? If medicine wouldn't work, then what—?

An idea struck her so abruptly, she almost dropped the cloth. Not wasting any time, a light blush colored her cheeks a second later.

_No. No, no, no! I can't be that way… I have to do this…_

Chiding herself the same way she had before taking Kisshu into her arms, she resolved to carry through with the only plan she could think of. All that remained was waking the boy up and hoping that he could manage the trip to the bathroom.

"Kisshu. Kisshu, wake up." She shook him cautiously, afraid of causing him any more discomfort, until his eyes fluttered open. He took a moment to focus on her, and when he did, he responded with a raspy, rather indignant "What?" If the situation hadn't been so urgent, the annoyance lacing his voice at the rude awakening could have inspired some amusement. As it was, Ichigo simply pushed forward.

"You have to get up. I'm going to—"

She was interrupted by a cough and a pleading "I'm too tired." Swallowing both anxiety and impatience, she went on gently.

"We have to get your fever down, Kisshu."

The urgency in her voice must have reached him, because he began to lift himself into a sitting position. This time, however, he nearly fell back, only to be caught by Ichigo. The fact that this happened only confirmed her terrors; he was weakening.

Pushing that frightening thought back, she sat him up, pulled the covers back, and waited as he swung his legs over the side of the bed before helping him onto trembling legs. For a second, she almost lost her balance as he put most of his weight on her.

After recovering, she took the first steps forward, encouraging him on with soft murmurs as they moved down the hallway, stopping to lean against the wall every so often as a cough seized him. Finally, they reached the bathroom. Kisshu leaned against Ichigo as she opened the cabinet and pulled out a low stool, dropping it onto the floor and kicking it so that it stood against the tub. That done, she allowed him to sit on it, resting lightly against the porcelain bathtub while she gathered a few cloths, soaked them in cool water, and, almost as an afterthought, gathered some more bandages before sitting down to her task.

She already knew that giving the boy a full bath would have been impossible; her feminine sense of modesty destroyed all chances of that. Even if that sense had not existed, she could see that getting the poor boy undressed and dressed in his current condition would have been overly difficult and tiring for both of them.

Ichigo could, however, cool him down by washing his upper body, at least. It also gave her a chance to finally change his bandages.

Taking a steadying breath, she sat down to work.

Kisshu's initial reaction was a sharp gasp at what must have felt like ice water to him, and Ichigo could not restrain herself from placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder as she pressed the towel against his skin.

"It's cold," he mumbled, to which she nodded, replying in a voice trembling with anxious apology, "I know. I know, Kisshu, but it's for your fever."

The last words dwindled into a whisper as she bit her lip to fight the tears that threatened her. It hurt, she realized. It hurt, seeing him like this, feeling the tremors running through his body, the heat in his skin, the pained rasp of breath that rattled his chest. It hurt terribly, because she knew what she saw and sensed was absolutely nothing compared to the suffering he must have been enduring.

It nearly drove her to new tears, and all she could do to fight them was concentrate on being as tender as possible with her ministrations.

As she worked down his back, he was seized by another coughing fit, and at its end, he could not hold himself upright any longer. He took to leaning fully against the tub, and Ichigo cringed as he shivered at the porcelain's perpetual coldness. Without the slightest questioning thought, she gently pulled him towards her, allowing him to lean back against her instead.

She continued with his front, dabbing gingerly around the edges of the bandage before finally deciding that the time had come to change it. With him still laying against her, she began to undo the knot she had tied. A soft gasp from him, a signal that she had accidentally pressed against an injured area, compelled her to abandon the bandage for a few moments, one arm encircling around his torso as she moved him so that his head rested on her shoulder.

"It's all right, Kisshu. Just a little more, ok?" He answered with a weak nod, and she lay her cheek against his tangled hair, giving him a reassuring squeeze with one arm while undoing what remained of her knot with the other. As the bandage fell away, she grimaced involuntarily; there was little that could have prepared her for the angry red flesh that stared back at her.

Thankfully, _mercifully_, she saw that it wasn't infected. Relief flooded her; at least _that_ hadn't gone wrong

The feeling vanished as quickly as it had come. She realized that to keep it that way, she would have to do what her mind equated to torture. Struggling to keep sobs from escaping her, she used one hand to pour some of the antiseptic onto a fresh cloth. Then, teeth clenched in sudden fear, she prepared to press a corner of the thing against the red flesh, but stopped. Such an approach was senseless. Now, a soft sob breached her failing defenses.

"I'm sorry, Kisshu," she whispered into one of his long ears, unconsciously tightening her grip on him, pressing her cheek against his head, clenching her teeth before pressing the towel against the entire gash.

Nothing, no horror movies, no hospital dramas, simply _nothing_, could have prepared her for the scream he gave, and nothing would ever be able to erase it from her memory.

Just a few days ago, she would have never believed that she'd do what she did next. She would have scoffed at anyone who suggested it, even been offended by the thought.

All of that evaporated when she felt him convulse against her in agony and had that ragged scream settle into her ears.

She dropped the cloth, wrapping both arms around the alien boy, holding him with such ferocity, that she totally immobilized him. All the while, she was crying, now struggling not to prevent tears, but to avoid hysteria.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Kisshu," she sobbed into his ear, her voice slowly dwindling into soft whispers of his name as she rocked him back and forth.

She was aware of five points of pain on her thigh; his nails had dug into her skin, even through her pajamas. At this moment, feeling his shallow breaths, his trembling, she welcomed that pain, embraced it as the only bit of fairness present in the whole ordeal, even wished, in a hysterical delirium, that he'd draw blood as some sort of payment.

How long they stayed that way, Ichigo could not tell. It was probably only a few minutes, but to her, it seemed as if hours passed, hours of softly hushing the alien's whimpers as the unimaginable pain died down to a dull ache in his chest, hours before she had gathered herself enough to unwrap one arm and grab a fresh towel to dry the boy's torso.

Carefully patting him dry, she froze in surprise when Kisshu's voice broke the silence.

"You don't have to cry, Ichigo. It's ok."

She dropped the towel in utter shock, eyes snapping to the alien's as her lips parted, but no voice came out. His small smile, the gentle look in his eyes, the way he relaxed against her, still _trusting_ her, after all of this… she could hardly keep new tears away.

A smile lifted her lips, a smile of gratitude, of pure relief. She brought a hand to his forehead.

"Your fever's gone down."

It was all she could bring herself to answer with, yet it seemed to satisfy him. He nodded, but winced slightly, and Ichigo realized she had yet to re-bandage the wound. She did so with the utmost care, finishing with a firm yet gentle knot.

That done, she discovered that the alien had nearly fallen asleep on her, and she shook him awake again.

"Don't sleep here," she murmured, allowing some relieved amusement into her voice, "back to bed."

More weight lifted off her chest as Kisshu gave a soft snicker at what he would have, had he been healthier, exaggerated into some suggestive comment. It was a far cry from his usual snide remarks, but it was _something_. It was a sign that the illness was receding, and Ichigo found a light spring in her step as she led him back to her bedroom, her face far more relaxed as she helped him lie back down and pulled the covers up over him.

_He's better. He can talk again, and he's breathing better, and his skin isn't so warm, and…_

Her thoughts trailed off into merciful respite from the stress of the past day.

A few minutes later, Ichigo was seated in her chair, mind focused on her remaining math problems, while Kisshu slept once again.

Her sudden happiness was really quite funny to watch; her foot tapped against the side of her chair, she hummed softly, a shameless smile on her face as she tackled the exercises with renewed vigor.

The last time she had been this happy was when Aoyama had confessed his love to her.

It was quite lucky that she was so caught up in her joy; seeing that probably would have brought about a whole slew of nasty thoughts that she was forcibly saving for later. Later, after she was sure Kisshu wouldn't die on her. Later, when she knew what she was _doing_.

For now, she was content to bask in the relief offered by the fall of Kisshu's fever.

Hours passed; Ichigo finally closed her math book and placed it wither finished English and history assignments before deciding that a quick temperature check would be good. At the moment she rose, however, Kisshu interrupted her departure with a sudden coughing fit, waking himself up and startling her.

It also ended that peaceful feeling, for Ichigo immediately knew that something was wrong. The coughing lasted for a disconcertingly long time, and when he finally quieted, Ichigo could see that he was shivering rather badly. Her smile faded in an instant, replaced with a tight-lipped frown and wide eyes swimming with concern. Sitting down on the bed beside him, she placed a hand on his chest, grabbing his attention before speaking.

"Kisshu? Are you all right?" It came out trembling, frightened, and for a moment, Kisshu hesitated in his response. He did not want to see her cry again. It had disturbed him before, even in his own suffering, when tears fell from her expressive eyes. He could make her angry, make her frightened. He even enjoyed the emotion in her face, in her gorgeous eyes, when he managed to do that. He loved her spunk.

But he couldn't, under any circumstances, watch her cry.

So he hesitated, perhaps would have given her a small lie, had a chill not seized him so suddenly, forcing a violent shiver from him right before her eyes. There was no use in lying _now_.

"I'm just a… a bit cold, koneko-chan."

Ichigo, while known for being slow at times, recognized his attitude immediately. Had the issue not been so pressing, she may have been intrigued by it. Already, in some far corner of her mind, the information was being stored away, waiting for its turn to be examined.

As it was, Ichigo bit her lip and brushed back Kisshu's messy bangs to feel his forehead again, and was met with unnaturally warm skin.

Her mind fell to paralysis.

_Again… again… it's back, even after…_

After all of that, it was back. She felt… she felt like crying. Again.

"Kisshu," she whispered, drawing her hand back and placing it in her lap. "I…"

She was at a loss. What else could she do? She had no medicine, and she could not force him back onto his feet. The growing flush on his cheeks warned her of another violent bout of fever, and she did not want to drain him.

What, then? What could she do?

Her nails dug into her palms as she desperately searched for a plan.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. There was nothing she could do.

It was enough to nurture a sob in her throat, and she fought to keep it from escaping. She was suddenly aware of what she had realized just a few moments ago, that Kisshu did not want her to cry, and this took on a new importance in her psyche.

Swallowing, the girl turned back to the alien.

"I'll go turn up the thermostat, ok?" He coughed lightly, but managed a nod, so she did just that. As an afterthought, she stopped by the hall closet and grabbed more blankets, spreading them over the boy and drawing them up to his chin. That done, she returned to his side, what she hoped was a comforting smile on her face.

"Is that better?"

Kisshu tried to nod, but it was rapidly sabotaged by a cough, and Ichigo faltered. She swallowed again, that panic getting ever more difficult to keep down, but managed to call back that smile.

"Try to go to sleep again. You'll feel better if you rest."

He did try to do as she said. Truthfully, he was rather anxious for more sleep; it numbed he pain of his wound and allowed him to forget his illness. Kisshu tried, but this time, the sickness seemed to have totally different ideas. As his fever rose anew, his chills increased, his cough worsened, and within an hour, he had lost all hope of falling into a peaceful sleep.

Ichigo wilted when she saw this.

_It's even worse than before. Now he can't even…_

Her new thoughts only concerned comforting him, trying to ease his pain enough to allow him the rest he so desperately needed to have any hope of recovery.

As he shivered under the blankets, Ichigo rose and made her way to his head.

"Kisshu," she said his name, for he had been growing less and less lucid as time passed, even while sleep remained cruelly out of his reach. "Kisshu, sit up for just a second. Only a little while." With that, she helped him into a sitting position before sitting down on the pillow and lowering his head into her lap.

Any surprise, any amusement he would have felt was lost in fever and sickness. As he was, he could only turn his head to allow her hand to lie against his cheek; it was the only comfort she could hope to give, and the only he could receive.

Whenever a cough or chill took him, Ichigo hushed him, stroking his hair with one hand, keeping her other on his cheek as a reassuring contact, occasionally caressing his forehead as he relaxed after the attacks. She brushed his sweaty bangs from his face, doggedly keeping her eyes on his all the while, believing somewhere in her mind that it would somehow help keep him with her.

_Stay, Kisshu. Please…please… you have to hold on. You have to… after…_

After waking her up.

_After saving us all. After giving up your own safety for us. After coming here…Kisshu… after giving me your trust. You have to hold on, because, Kisshu... Oh, God, Kisshu… I think… I think maybe I…_

Ichigo found her voice rising above the stifling quiet, lilting in a sweet lullaby she remembered from her childhood.

"_Nen nen kororiyo okororiyo, boyawa yoikoda nenneshina."_ A tear trickled down her cheek, but she made no move to wipe it away. Her hands stayed with the alien boy, stroking his hair, smoothing his blankets, as she sang, voice low and soft, the voice of a mother comforting a child.

"_Boyano komoriwa dokoe it ta, anoyama koete satoe it ta."_ A cough was silenced by a tender caress of the forehead. Kisshu relaxed against her, turning his face towards her stomach, burying it in her shirt, breathing in her scent. One hand moved to stroke one of his ears, ever gentle, ever comforting, as his breathing began to deepen.

"_Sato no miyage ni nani morata, denden taikoni sho no fue. Sho no fue."_ He fell asleep with a shaking sigh, an unintelligible murmur escaping him befote his muscles fully slackened and he relaxed in her lap. In spite of his slumber, Ichigo continued her ministrations, continued them as her mind slowly wrapped itself around the feelings she was sensing, the sights she saw, the sounds tickling her ears.

Stroking his hair, feeling his hot skin, she suddenly realized what she was doing, and it almost made her laugh. She was caressing the enemy. She was stroking his burning skin, smoothing back his hair. _His_ skin. _His_ hair. _His_. Kisshu's. The one they always fought, the one she always rejected, the one who was always defeated in more ways than one.

His skin was smooth, tender. His hair, even while tangled and sweaty, was soft. She could see the fragility of his long ears, the veins visible in their nearly-translucent skin. She could see his eyelashes, wet with tears of pain, of exhaustion, long and handsome against intensely golden eyes. All of it, soft, dear, beautiful. All of it so fragile as he trembled under her touch, so drawn and tense in pain and fear.

This was the creature she scorned. This was the one she cursed at, insulted, _rejected_. That word came again and again… _rejected_. Fought, hurt, hated.

This was the vile Kisshu.

She closed her eyes, bent down, farther and farther until she felt his hot forehead beneath her lips.

_Kisshu…I think I might… I might love you…_

* * *

Author's Note: Ok… I got the song off some site.. not allowing links, but Google Edo Komoriuta.Translation from the site:

Nen nen kororiyo okororiyo  
Boyawa yoikoda nenneshina

Boyano komoriwa dokoe it ta

Anoyama koete satoe it ta

Sato no miyage ni nani morata

Denden taikoni sho no fue

Sho no fue

Sleep, sleep,

little one, sleep.

You¹re a good baby,

now go to sleep.

Do you know

where your nurse has gone?

Gone to her village

she won¹t be long.

What will she bring baby

when she does come?

A flute so lovely

and a thunderous drum.

And a thunderous drum.

No, I don't know if it's right. I don't know Japanese. It's supposed to be a Japanese lullaby, but if it's somehow wrong, dun blame me. I know English, some French, and Polish. I would have put in a nice little Polish lullaby, but somehow I didn't think that appropriate :P. Ok. Read and review, please!


	12. Chapter 12

Author's Note: Long time no see, everyone! Sorry about the wait, really, I am. There's just been a lot of stuff going on at school… eh, yea. We'll go with that. No, really, things have been busy. I'll try a bit harder to give you guys less waiting time, but bear with me. That said on to responses!

Kishu: Ok, the ESP with my readers is kinda disturbing. You and Dust-in kinda predict what I'm putting up next… that freaks me out, yet is seriously cool. I know, I know, I won't forget simple needs. I'm too much of a bio nerd, hehe…

xX-Shortcake-Princess-Xx: Yup, I update as often as I can. This is a really long wait for me. Hehe… artsy… I'm an AP Lit student, is all. We're trained in the art of writing with pointless elaboration. Yay us!

Dust-in: Mmm.. Kish/Ichigo love…. must kill Masaya… And yea, the Lettuce/Pai will come. Lettuce will be fully seen next chap, so don't worry. The L/P may not be as focused on as the K/I, but I'll shove some in there.

Kaoru…: Too lazy to type… need sleep… blech. Hehe. I have Arabic friends, and yea, the font shows up. It's pretty .

BlackWingedGabriel: Hey! Fluff is my friend… it is so my friend. And according to my friends, who are goddesses of fluff, I'm getting rather good at it. Which is disturbing. Mmyup. And your theory is sound. I have to confess, I've never watched any of the anime, except TMM, that you mentioned, but I'd prolly go with the Kisshu-esque guys. Doesn't surprise me at all.

Jenvaati: I am so used to the ep 45 drawing thing now… used to freak me out. Not anymore . And I personally thought the ending sucked, actually. Ichigo, like, totally forgot him at the end. It pissed me off royally. Though... there was this interesting little tidbit in ep 51 that I found… intriguing. Sheebs, Toni, I've explained my theory!

Everyone Else: Thanks for the reviews!

Ok, before you all go on, I'd like to mention that Sheeba and Toni have already read the first.. oh… half of this chapter. I'd also like to say that it sent Sheeba into fluff convulsions. She had it during English class, and she looked like she was going to have a fit. Those three pages make her go crazy. It's funny to watch, really. If anyone could tell me was is so fluffy about the first part of the chapter, please do. It perplexes me so, yet watching her go into little fluff-induced seizures is always fun.

That done…

Disclaimer: Proof of my not owning TMM: Episodes 39, 45, and 51. 'Nuff said.

Oh, and any typos or errors will be eventually fixed. I know they're there, I just haven't had time to figure them out. It's late people. I've gotten less than 9 hours sleep in.. two or three days. Bear with me :P

Now, read away.

* * *

He was going to die.

That was the first thought that gingerly pulled itself from sleep's abyss as the caress of a cool, damp cloth against his cheek woke him.

Kisshu did not have to remain lucid for long to see the tear stains on Ichigo's cheeks or the cold despair in her bleary eyes. He realized quickly, very quickly for someone in his state, that he had worsened, that his fever was higher, his breathing shallower, and that the girl was afraid. She was terrified. Utterly, hopelessly terrified, because all she saw was the alien boy slowly suffering and dying before her.

_I guess… that's it, then…?_

If he was going to die, he suddenly realized, then only one more thing mattered. Only one…

* * *

Hours had passed. Hours of listening to the boy cry out deliriously in his sleep, hours of futile attempts to keep his steadily rising temperature at bay, hours of heartbreaking deterioration had sapped Ichigo's strength to the point that it took her a few moments to register the feather-light touch against her left hand, and a few moments more to realize that the touch came from Kisshu's trembling fingers.

She nearly jerked her hand back, her surprise was so great, but she managed to stay still as the alien slowly, painstakingly, moved his hand over hers and curled his fingers around her wrist. The shock only deepened when he began to use the last of his strength to pull.

Was he pulling himself up, or her down?

Both, it seemed, and now her eyes snapped to his face.

Those golden orbs stared back, dulled by weakness, yet flickering with a dying spark of hope as his chapped lips parted and his voice, a bare rasping whisper, broke the silence.

"One… one more… Ichigo…" His eyes almost fluttered closed as he took a shallow breath. "Please… just once… befo—"

He broke off, last reserves of energy devoted to a final attempt to prop himself up, to…

Ichigo gave a choked sob when she grasped his intent, and the realization made her go limp for a moment.

As his feeble pulling on her wrist continued, as he wheezed in this final, desperate exertion, her mind could only focus on one paralyzing thought.

_He's hurting, dying, because of me, and all he wants… all he can ask for before…_

She found herself gently taking his hand and bringing it up to her face, tenderly pressing it against her cheek as a tearful smile replaced the rigid shock on her face. Before she could even speak, she shook her head, eyes firmly locked on to his, shook it again and again even as tears filled her eyes and dropped, unnoticed, to the bedspread.

"No, Kisshu," she murmured, and her voice was as low, as drawn and weak as his as she saw a heavy disappointment dull his eyes further. But her smile remained, even grew, as his fingers faintly caressed her temple, almost attempting to hold onto her one last time. She gave a choked sound, half sob, half laugh, as he fought to keep his eyes open, struggled to ask a simple question.

"Why?"

She chuckled then, a sound thick with tears. Ichigo chuckled, because his request was so ridiculous. It was perhaps the most absurd suggestion her mind had ever received, and in her exhausted state, she could hardly keep from giggling weakly while the tears sank into the bedspread.

Her grip on his hand tightened, and she gently pressed it to her cheek, allowed him to finger her hair as her eyes bore into his, all the warmth and compassion she could possibly feel shining through her pink irises and gradually melting away the utter despair in them.

"Kisshu." As she said his name, she could feel his long nails graze her skin, and the sensation brought a new wave of tenderness to her gaze. She moved her hand around his, pressing his palm against her cheek as an incredible softness took over her voice.

"Kisshu." her voice carried a new confidence in its gentleness, a confidence that eased his breathing, eased his trembling, as his listened to its whispered tone.

"I won't kiss you, Kisshu." The words would have destroyed him had her tone not been so full of sheer compassion, her eyes shining with tender emotion he had always hoped for, yet never truly expected. Her hand was a warm contact against his, and he could feel blessed strength flowing from it, flowing into him as her eyes stayed on his.

Ichigo caressed his temple with the back of her other hand, moving to his forehead and smoothing back his sweaty bangs before her voice returned.

"Because you're not going to die."

That affirmation was all Ichigo needed to escape from her deep despair.

He wasn't going to die. No. Of course not. The thought was stupid, preposterous, and she laughed silently as she continued to run her fingers through his hair.

"You're not going to die," she whispered again, a confirmation, a bold, confident declaration against the wound and the fever.

She would not let him go.

Not like this.

_Never_.

Not when her mind was swimming with…no… drowning in new possibilities involving that finicky "L" word.

There was no way, not now, when she finally realized, finally _grasped_ it all.

His trust was in her, and there was no chance in _hell_ she was going to throw it away. Not after all he had done. Not after it had awakened these disconcerting, terrifying, confusing, _wonderful_ questions, curious possibilities in her psyche, a psyche that had been so utterly focused on one, that the shock of seeing two was a stinging slap that woke her like nothing ever had before.

"Go back to sleep, Kisshu," she murmured, and the alien did just that. He did it without question, because he had felt the same jolt of doubtless confidence that had revived the girl. A tired smile graced his lips, almost a defiant smirk, as his eyes closed.

_Or maybe not_…

Ichigo waited only a few moments before deciding that Kisshu was secure enough.

A minute later, she had gotten off the bed and had her cell phone in hand. Leaving the room, standing next to the doorway, she scrolled through her contacts.

She needed help.

He wouldn't die, _never_ like this, but she needed help.

Whom to call? She bit her lip, sudden seriousness overcoming her. Care was needed here; that was certain. Shirogane? No. He wouldn't be quick to help an alien, not by a long shot. Mint? Same. Zakuro? That was so wrong, it almost provoked another laugh.

Onward she scrolled, until a voice sounded in her tense mind.

_It seems those people do have feelings…_

A gasp, not a laugh, escaped her before she began dialing. Why hadn't she thought of it before?

_Please answer…please… you're the only one—_

Success! Ichigo's heart leaped when she heard the timid voice of Lettuce.

"Moshi moshi?"

For a moment, Ichigo froze. What was she going to say? Hello, Lettuce, I need you help with a dying alien at my house, could you come over in the next ten minutes?

Somehow, she felt that she couldn't explain herself on the phone. She couldn't risk refusal. Breaking into a cold sweat, suddenly unbelievably nervous, she stammered into the phone.

"L-lettuce? This is… this is Ichigo—"

Lettuce was not one to interrupt. Ever.

However, she sense the intense unease in Ichigo's voice, and her innate compassion flowed through immediately.

"Ichigo-san? Is something wrong?"

In spite of herself, the girl smiled; Lettuce was definitely the right person to call.

_It seems those people do have feelings…_

She swallowed, the statement bringing back her confidence.

"Lettuce, I need you to come over, ok? Please?"

She could practically see the worry in Lettuce's gaze.

"Is everything all right, Ichigo-san? Should I ca—"

"No! No, Lettuce, don't call anyone. Just come over here! Come over here, and…"

Ichigo was bluntly surprised to find herself thinking clearly. _Is there anything I need…?_ Her mind immediately conjured a checklist: medicine…no…blankets…plenty of those…food…that wouldn't hurt. Actually, the thought of leaving Kisshu alone to go find something to eat brought up a wave of nausea, so she quickly blurted her request into the phone.

"Could you bring some soup? Or something else that's…uh…" How to say this without giving herself away and initiating a conversation she couldn't deal with at the moment? She swallowed nervously, but failed to continue before Lettuce spoke.

"Are you sick, Ichigo-san? Is—"

"No… no, but… please, just come here? Come and bring…just…" she hated herself for stuttering, but all she could focus on was the glaring possibility that Lettuce would refuse, that she would be denied the aid Kisshu so desperately needed.

And if Lettuce refused, whom else could she ask?

"Just… _please_, Lettuce? I'll explain… when…" she trailed off, biting her lip hard enough now to taste blood as she waited in silence, heart beating so loudly that she was afraid it would drown out the other girl's soft voice.

For a few moments, she thought it was over. For a few heart-stopping seconds, she heard nothing, and was anticipating the dial tone. Then:

"All right. I'll be there in half an hour." She paused as if she wanted to say more, but before Ichigo could beg her to hurry, the connection ended.

Half an hour until what Ichigo hoped was help arrived. Half an hour… what could she do in half an hour?

_I should wake Kisshu up. He's gonna have to get up anyway… might as well tell him Lettuce is coming._

Yes, it was definitely best to warn him. The possibility of startling him… she shuddered. Suddenly, the thought of frightening him more made her feel physically ill; it was already bad enough.

He had thought, had been certain, that he was going to die.

The thought of forcing more fear onto him was… simply wrong.

That resolution firmly in place, Ichigo went back into her room and to the bedside, ready to shake Kisshu awake despite her guilt at his just having achieved peaceful sleep a few minutes ago. He needed that sleep so desperately, and he had been so obviously exhausted after having tossed about for so long, suffering from feverish delirium.

Imagine her surprise when she found his golden eyes, fever-bright and half-lidded, but stubbornly focused on her, following her as soon as she re-entered the room.

Blurting out a surprised "Kisshu?", she crouched down at his bedside. He had managed to curl up on his side, and in doing this, she was able to meet him eye-to-eye, more or less, and instantly felt the importance of keeping his gaze while she spoke.

"Why aren't you asleep?"

He took a few seconds to answer, and Ichigo took that moment of silence to slowly reach out and stroke his cheek, fingering on of his pigtails in an effort to lend him some of her strength. It had calmed him before, and the effect was much the same now. He seemed to relax, the dull pain in his eyes lessening some as he found the breath to answer.

"Can't sleep," he mumbled simply before coughing lightly. Ichigo left his hair for his forehead, a small frown settling into her features when she felt the unbearable heat of the alien's skin. Taking the thermometer off the night table, she slid it into his mouth, and he obediently allowed it under his tongue.

Ichigo stood, sitting back down onto the bed beside her charge, returning her hand to the banded strand of hair and gently running her fingers through it, against his skin, while she waited for the thermometer's beep. It didn't take long.

_Forty-two… oh my God…_

The reading would have made her gasp, should have made her gasp, but she did not want to scare him. Not after their conversation of only a little while ago, a conversation that had shown her just how terrified he was. She simply couldn't.

As it was, she simply stared at it until she felt Kisshu shift underneath her fingers, and her attention snapped back to him. He was watching her with obvious anxiety in his eyes; ill though he was, he was still able to comprehend the worry in her face.

She felt the sudden, urgent need to reinforce what she had told him before.

"You'll be fine, Kisshu." Her hand rested against his cheek, fingers slowly moving against his temple.

"I called a friend. She'll come over soon, and she'll help." With that she paired a small smile.

"Friend? One of the…?" he trailed off into a cough, and she waited until he quieted before nodding.

"Yes, but she's nice. She'll help."

_At least, I hope she'll be able to…_

Silence for a while, then:

"Ichigo?"

"Mmm?"

"Thank you."

She really had to control herself at that point. Really, _really_ had to take a few deep breaths to ward off the threat of tears.

As it was, she froze, her hand suddenly tense against his cheek as she struggled to maintain her calm. It was hard, so unbelievably hard, seeing him trembling under the blankets, weak and flushed and afraid, knowing it was because of her, and then hearing _that_ come from him. _Thank you?_

"You could have left me," he rasped, eyes straining to meet hers.

Ichigo swallowed, hand resuming its soothing movements against his skin.

_My fault… Kisshu, it's because of me you're lying here… how can you…?_

She had to fight the emotions down, biting her lip as she desperately fought the outburst that was threatening to break the peace.

Ironically, the boy's illness saved her, forcing another cough from him and giving her a much-needed reason to bury the emotions for the meantime. She reached over to the night table, grabbing a glass and water bottle she had brought some time ago. Waiting until he could breathe freely again, she poured a glassful, asked him to sit up, and supported him as he did so and drank.

"Lie back down," she ordered when he was finished, and was rather surprised when he shook his head weakly.

"Hurts more to breathe when I lie down," he managed to whisper between soft gasps. Ichigo answered this with an anxious nod; she didn't like him having to support himself.

That wave of tenderness, quickly becoming a familiar companion, overtook her again, and she found herself allowing Kisshu to lean against her, head resting on her shoulder as she sat back against the bed's headboard. A few moments confirmed that this position seemed to suit him best, and Ichigo supposed they would remain like this until she had to greet Lettuce and explain the situation. _That_ certainly wasn't a pleasant thought; no matter how kind Lettuce was, the cat girl couldn't even begin to expect anything but shock and disbelief from her. Yet that was not the worst part of it.

Ichigo was much more concerned, infinitely more, by the prospect of leaving Kisshu alone.

The thought of him alone in the room, his weak breaths grating softly against stifling silence brought new tears and nausea.

Almost as if he had sensed her unease, Kisshu nuzzled her shoulder gently, a quiet sigh escaping him before he murmured.

"You smell nice."

This would have inspired much more of a blush if Ichigo hadn't already been through so much in the past two days, but it still managed to call up some pink in her cheeks. It also called up a gentle, almost bashful smile as the girl allowed herself to lay her cheek against the top of his head, finding a pleasant enjoyment in the constant softness of his hair.

Before she could respond, his voice came again.

"I love you."

The way she blinked, total blankness settling into her face, was actually quite comical. The frenzy of thoughts that followed, however, carried all the seriousness of the past couple of days.

_He's… h-he's feverish. He doesn't know what he's saying. He's just… just…_

He loves you, a calm little voice insisted underneath her own anxiety. He's loved you for a long time… this is a surprise?

_No, no, no, he doesn't—_

Ah, but he does. He does, he does, and you know it. You _know_ it, so stop lying. And stop lying about—

_Shut up! Not now… I have to be calm now!_

All of this mental turmoil she took with a calm visage. All of it she responded to only by wrapping a careful arm around her charge and giving him a light, tender squeeze.

These thoughts… they made her stomach ache. They _hurt_. They hurt so much…

…was this the pain he felt?

She wished she could have shaken her head to dislodge that suggestion; keeping her tranquility was becoming too hard.

Instead, she shifted her focus to Kisshu, who, she realized, had nearly fallen asleep on her. Again, a stab of guilt at having to disturb him; he really did look as if he had finally gotten comfortable, but it would never do if Lettuce was to arrive in a few minutes.

"Kisshu," she shook him lightly, "Lettuce is going to be here soon. Don't fall asleep now."

"Mou… make up your mind," he answered drowsily, and Ichigo bit her lip.

She didn't like the way he was switching between moods, between manners of speaking.

The fever was affecting his mind.

There _had_ to be a way to help him.

For the moment, she could only give him a gentle smile and a soft "Sorry" in an attempt to humor him and keep him awake.

Another cough helped in that department, though it only made Ichigo wince at the obvious pain it caused him. Now she wished Lettuce would hurry up; sleep seemed to be his only respite from that infernal cough.

The wish seemed to work.

Ichigo's ears perked up at the sound of her doorbell.

"That's—"

"Your friend," Kisshu finished, and Ichigo was torn between relief at the fact that he _was_ talking and utter despair at the detached sound of his voice.

"Yeah. I have to…" she trailed off, intensely aware of how much she _didn't_ want to leave him. It was a feeling that her conflicted mind would take advantage of when she argued with herself later. At the moment, it just made her feel awful.

Kisshu, however, obediently, leaned back against the headboard, regarding her with a small smile on his slightly chapped lips.

It occurred to her very abruptly that he was terribly pale, and that scared her. She only realized how much it scared her when the alien boy met her eyes.

"I'm not going to die, Ichigo-chan."

She couldn't tell whether it was a question or a statement, but she knew she was meant to repeat it. She did so with a sweet, tender smile.

"You're not going to die."

With that, she touched his hand once more before heading downstairs to greet Lettuce.

* * *

Author's Note: Dear God, I need sleep… Heh. I realize the wait is getting longer between chapters. College apps are due around now, so we're all kinda hectic around here. I'll try to update best I can, but don't worry if the intervals between chapters get long. I'm not dropping the story. If that happens, there will be an announcement, so no fear . Read and review, please! 


	13. Chapter 13

Author's Note: Before I start my ramblings, I urge all of you to look up the author animezebra and read her Ryou/Lettuce fic Metamorphosis. That's Sheeba, and she's the TMM community's newest R/L fan after watching the amazing episode 41.

Regarding that ep, I was shocked to see that Ichigo seems to grow a brain. She actually _remembers_ Kisshu waking her up, and feels remorse. I was speechless for a full five minutes after that one, yet obviously pleased. Perhaps my fic-Ichigo isn't as radically OOC as I thought.. Ichigo does have a brain! Huzzah!

And you guys are so sweet! Dun worry about me. I can stay up and not eat and whatever and still by fine :P. I have that ability. Really, if I don't write, I feel bad myself, so don't worry about it. Heh.

On another note, Toni's getting me Volume 6 for Xmas, and she has already received it in the mail. She tells me that it's bad. For those of you who don't know, it corresponds to ep 45, and from what I know, I'm going to have to watch Kisshu cry. Toni has already warned me that I'm going to have serious problems reading this. Needless to say, I'm rather afraid --

Eh… I'm going to forego the AN review replies... I think I'll eventually send out replies via that little reply link thing in the review section. I just really want to go to bed right now. Hehe.. sorry. But thanks for the reviews! They made me very happy :P

Now, without further ado…

Disclaimer: If I owned TMM… some random Chimera Anima would have eaten Aoyama and we could dance and sing the praises of the K/I pairing. Unfortunately, this is not so, so we're stuck with travesties like eps 39, 45, 51, and Volume 6. Dammit.

* * *

She was perplexed, to say the least, as she walked down Ichigo's street, a thermos of hot miso soup cradled in her arms.

Like the other Mew Mews, Lettuce had been enjoying the week and a half off Shirogane had given them. It wasn't like him, to be sure; he hardly gave them breaks when it came to running the café and protecting the Earth, but after that battle over the Mew Aqua, after Aoyama's getting injured, after that Chimera Anima possessing Ichigo… needless to say, he was not a heartless boy. He allowed them the remainder of their school holidays away from Café Mew Mew.

The time had been wonderfully relaxing for all. Lettuce, for one, had been spending some much-appreciated time with her family. She knew that the other Mews were doing the same.

This was why she had been so surprised at Ichigo's unexpected, rather distressing phone call.

Walking down the street, carefully treading through the newly fallen snow to avoid any patches of ice, the girl found her brows drawing together in a light frown of concern.

What in the world had happened to influence such a call? The desperation, the _urgency_, in Ichigo's voice had made Lettuce's skin crawl. It was why she hadn't asked any more questions. All logic had suggested calling Shirogane, calling another Mew Mew, thinking it all out more. Logic demanded a good reason.

Lettuce, however, found herself less concerned with logic and more concerned with the strangled feeling in her heart. She knew that something was terribly wrong, and she knew it couldn't wait. Moreover, she somehow sensed that this could not be shared with the remaining Mews.

Not yet.

Wasting little time, she had reheated some of the miso soup her mother often made during the colder months, packed it into a thermos, and rushed out the door, telling her parents that one of her friends was ill. Lettuce being the trustworthy girl she was, they believed her. It had left her feeling slightly guilty for lying and not really knowing what she was getting into, but Ichigo's tone would not be forgotten.

_What could Ichigo-san need? She said she wasn't sick, but then why did she sound so tired and anxious, and why did she ask for soup? What could she possibly want?_

Try as she might, Lettuce couldn't come up with even an educated guess. Her frown softened into an expression of simple worry as she walked on, finally spotting the cat-girl's house and entering through the gate, pausing a moment to stare at the snow blanketing the sidewalk in front of the house.

It had just finished snowing, and any tracks had been generally covered, but Lettuce could still see the faint impressions of tracks. She studied them carefully, suddenly strangely interested in the fact that one set seemed fairly normal, while the other was slightly smaller and irregular. The fresh snow didn't completely hide the hint of a bare foot having made that print, and the girl quickly found herself all the more eager to enter the house.

Something was painfully _wrong_.

With that thought flitting about her psyche, she rang the doorbell and waited.

She didn't have to wait long. Within seconds, she heard the sound of frantic steps before the lock clicked and the door swung open.

Standing before her was Ichigo, and for a moment, Lettuce thought that she truly _was_ sick. Her hair was disheveled, her eyes were red, her face drawn and wan. She was even in her pajamas.

Before the green-haired girl could point any of this out, she was pulled into the house with a small yelp, and the door was shut. The next thing she knew, she was finding breathing rather difficult. Ichigo was giving her such a strong bear hug, that Lettuce realized that there was no way the girl was sick.

"I-ichigo-san… could…" she managed to gasp out, and Ichigo let her go, though kept her arms in a firm hold, as if worried that her friend would leave. Now Lettuce grew aware of the stark relief in her eyes. Her suspicions of something awful had not been exaggerated, judging by the way the cat-girl's eyes bore into her own with a gleam of sincere gratitude, or the way they were slowly filling with tears.

Breath regained, Lettuce felt a new wave of concern.

"What is it? Are you all right? You don't seem well."

For a moment, she thought she had said something terrible and struggled to form a quick apology, for the tears spilled over, and Ichigo began to cry. These were not shallow tears, but tears of true stress and fear that compelled Lettuce to overstep what she normally considered her boundaries and give her companion a reassuring hug.

"Ichigo-san," she continued gently, abruptly recognizing a serious need for calm in the face of whatever was troubling the girl, "what's wrong?"

"I'm so glad you came," Ichigo gasped between noisy sobs. "I thought… and he… it's all _my_ fault. He…he—"

Lettuce had very little idea of who "he" was, though a strange feeling told her that "he" was whomever she had brought the soup for.

A thought suddenly struck her. "Is Aoyama-san all right, Ichigo? Did something happen?"

At this, a chuckle, sad, almost sarcastic, broke through the sobs. "Not him." She shook her head, trying, slowly succeeding, to curb her weeping. Wiping her eyes, she repeated it. "Not him. If it were him—"

"Then… then who?"

The next second, Lettuce faintly wondered if something had gone very wrong with her hearing, for she couldn't truthfully believe what passed Ichigo's lips at that moment.

"Kisshu."

"Wha… what?"

Ichigo swallowed, and Lettuce realized why she had not said anything over the phone. She could tell by her eyes, that Ichigo had been terrified of her refusing to come. She knew it as she said the name again.

"Kisshu is upstairs." This was the last thing she managed to say calmly. The rest was blurted out in a flurry of tears. Biting her lip, Lettuce struggled to calm her friend down in order to gain any sense out of her.

"It's ok, Ichigo-san," she said kindly. "If you calm down, maybe you could—" she winced as Ichigo's frantic voice interrupted.

"I can't calm down! He's sick, and I've been trying to be calm for the past two days, but nothing's working, and he's getting worse, and Lettuce, it's all my fault! It's my fault he's here like this, and I don't know what to do, so I called you, and…" she trailed off, her voice losing strength as a sense of hopelessness overtook her.

Lettuce was rather surprised at her own level-headedness, but she did not question it as she found herself speaking quietly and calmly to Ichigo, as a mother would to a small, distressed child.

"Where is he?"

"Upstairs. C-come on." Lettuce began to follow Ichigo, picking up the thermos as a quick afterthought. Faced with a thick silence as the girl led her upstairs, Lettuce's mind began to digest and react to what had just been said.

_Kisshu… here… sick…wait a minute… just, wait a minute!_

As she climbed up the stairs, her own panic and unease began to rise, and she found herself swiftly meeting the distress she realized Ichigo said she had been living with for the past couple of days.

_Him, here… oh my goodness…_

Now she had something of an idea about what she had just gotten into, and could not blame Ichigo for not explaining it over the phone. As Ichigo opened the door, ushering her into her room, that thought only rang clearer. Lettuce failed to contain a gasp, failed to stop an expression of sheer shock from twisting her features. She could have guessed that his condition was bad from Ichigo's behavior, but little could prepare her for seeing the alien boy in such a weak, obviously ill state, and for a moment, she felt distinctly faint.

"Ichigo," she breathed, eyes not leaving the boy, who was sitting up, barely lucid, yet watching her with as much focus as he could manage in his state. "Ichigo, what…?" She had to take a deep breath before she could continue, and when she did, she heard a note of distinct compassion in her voice.

"What happened?"

When no answer came, Lettuce realized that her comrade was torn between an explanation and returning to the alien's side.

_That_ took her by some surprise.

Naturally, _she_ had been concerned about the most recent time they had all seen the aliens. _She_ had allowed a soft worry to simmer over the days following that last battle. _She_ had felt a disconcerting twinge of remorse.

Honestly, she had hoped that they all had felt that way, and by the expressions she remembered everyone had worn, they had.

Regardless, Lettuce had not expected the cat-girl to react like _this_. She had always been so deeply in love with Aoyama-kun, so absorbed in him, that it seemed totally unfeasible for her to show such obvious concern over another male, especially Kisshu. Lettuce was still having difficulty associating that name with this scene.

Nevertheless, she responded to Ichigo's urgency by taking a small step back, a gentle bit of encouragement for the other girl to move forward, and she did just that. As Lettuce watched, eyes wide in unabashed surprise, Ichigo sat down on the edge of the bed, placing a hand on what Lettuce guessed was Kisshu's knee in an attempt to grab his attention. This was a partial success; he turned to look at her, but his attention dissolved in a coughing fit that broke Lettuce out of her frozen stupor. A hand immediately went to her mouth as she watched Ichigo take the boy by the shoulders, softly telling him to look at her and breathe in an attempt to help him.

A part of her was completely, utterly shocked at this show of affection.

The other part was bubbling over with concern for both girl and alien boy.

And another part, another small, yet strangely persistent part, was actually rather pleased…

If she had been aware of _that_ part, even faintly so, her face would have been the envy of tomatoes everywhere. Her urgent concern quickly extinguished any real possibility of that. This was very obviously not the time to mull over such details.

Still, she could not ignore the curiosity sparked by the tender light in Ichigo's eyes as the girl helped the boy lean back and brushed stray hair out of his eyes. A sense of resolve seized her as she buried that thought for another time, watching Ichigo as she turned to her, motioning for her to come closer.

Gingerly, Lettuce approached the two, lip held firmly between her teeth as she stared down at Kisshu, wide eyes brimming with innate concern before Ichigo stammered a command to sit in the desk chair. She did so, but never did her eyes leave Ichigo's charge.

A soft "Kisshu-san?" left her lips, and to her surprise, the alien turned to her with a weak, wan smile.

"You're the fish, right?"

"H-hai."

She was taken aback, even as she nodded, by how desperately weak his voice sounded. The girl was no expert in medical matters, but a single look at Kisshu totally justified Ichigo's calling her over. The only problem was that she had no idea how she was going to be of any help.

Before she could dwell on that, Ichigo's voice broke into her thoughts.

"We don't know if he can take any of our medicine."

Well, thought Lettuce, that classified as bad.

"And his fever, it won't… it won't drop."

And that's _very_ bad.

"It's—" Here she broke off, and for a few seconds, Lettuce wondered why, was about to prompt her to continue, when the reason hit her.

Ichigo did not want to frighten Kisshu. While that seemed almost ridiculous, considering how obviously terrible the situation was, it proved one serious thing.

His fever was extremely high.

_That_ gave Lettuce a chilling shock of fear.

_She's afraid for his… she's afraid that he'll…_

_Die_.

The word rang in macabre tones in Lettuce's mind, but she wisely kept that unpleasantness to herself. She found herself growing more concerned about the same thing.

"Ano…" she began, trying to meet Kisshu's eyes to gain his attention, cautiously plowing forward when she captured his fever-dulled gaze, "are you _sure_, Kisshu-san? You can't take…?" She trailed off as the alien began to shake his head, mumbling a weary "Dunno…" before closing his eyes against what seemed to be a wave of dizziness. Out of the corner of her eye, Lettuce saw Ichigo clench her fists. The cat-girl's nervous desperation seemed to be contagious, and Lettuce found her voice, urgent and unnaturally trembling, filling the silence once again.

"H-have you tried c—" Just before finishing her query, she spotted the bowl of water and damp cloths ling on the night table. Beside her, Ichigo nodded, then looked up into her companion's blue eyes.

"Lettuce, there has to be something else, something you could…"

Now it was Lettuce's turn to don that expression of hopelessness. What in the world could _she_ do? Sure, she knew some first aid, but that was it, and Kisshu needed more than first aid…

He needed medicine and supplies that she and Ichigo _had_, but only for humans. If only, if _only_ they could acquire the supplies the aliens used. Surely, they had to have some in their dimensional headquarters. Surely, they did not come to this planet unprepared. If only there was a way to get to it…

As if to sharpen her anxiety, Kisshu murmured, "We have some… Pai keeps it for emergen—" he broke off in a light cough, but not before that name stirred something in Lettuce.

Pai.

If she could get to Pai, maybe she could… couldn't she?

Was it possible to convince him…?

_Wait_, she suddenly thought, _why is…_?

"Ichigo-san, why isn't Kisshu-san with—?"

The pink-haired girl cut her off with an abrupt shake of the head. The answer seemed to be too much for her to voice in her state, but she managed to mouth, "Deep Blue."

Like the other Mews, Lettuce had little idea as to who or what Deep Blue truly was. Nevertheless, she caught on very quickly, and a wave of despair overcame her. It explained everything and made it so horribly difficult.

Still…

She straightened again, that little idea gaining a mite of strength as she ran over that night's events in her mind.

Still, _Pai_ hadn't seemed displeased with Kisshu.

Perhaps scornful, yes, but concern had still been there, hadn't it?

Yes, there had been definite care in the way he helped carry his fallen comrade off.

Perhaps, then… perhaps…

"I-ichigo-san?" The girl looked up at Lettuce with a tinge of surprise in her eyes.

"Do you think… do you think maybe…" a sudden burst of resolve strengthened her speech, "if I could speak to Pai-san, do you think maybe I could—"

"Lettuce…" Ichigo's eyes had never been so wide. The conversation was completed with a feeble chuckle from Kisshu.

"He's a stubborn bastard."

"Kisshu!" Ichigo now, turning to the alien, shocked at what the two were suggesting. She whipped back to the other girl. "Lettuce, you can't be thinking—"

Now, it was Lettuce, voice hardened by a new determination, who interrupted, eyes confidently trained on her distressed friend. "It's the only way, isn't it? He needs the medicine, and I think that I… I can do it!"

And she meant it. The more she thought about it, the more she played it over and over in her head, the more confidence she gained. It brought a small smile to her face as she held Ichigo's bewildered gaze. "I can."

It took a few seconds for that affirmation to truly settle in Ichigo's desperate mind. Her first reaction was blatant refusal; she could not see a way to convince Pai, not at all. However, as Lettuce's words rang in the tense silence, as they sank in, the cat-girl realized that it _was_ the only option. She also realized that Lettuce was the only person remotely capable of the job.

She was the only one who had understood it all during that battle.

She had to do this.

All that was left was how.

Swallowing, stuttering, Ichigo tried to tackle that question. "How do you plan… w-what do we…?"

"I thought…" Lettuce began, suddenly taking to playing with the buttons of her sweater as the difficulty of the task became clearer, "I have to find him. Just find him and…" And hope she could persuade him to allow the girls access to whatever medicine Kisshu needed. Hope…

Within moments, just like that, Ichigo accepted the idea. She accepted it because it was obviously the first, last, and only option.

"Kisshu," she gently shook the alien's knee; he had closed his eyes and she wasn't sure if he was asleep or awake. Whichever it had been, he slowly gave her his attention, and she continued with an urgency that was as gentle as she could hope to make it.

"Did you change the door to your dimension?" She was, of course, referring to the entrance they had used when Masha had been taken into the aliens' domain.

At first, he looked slightly confused, then seemed to grasp what she was asking. He shook his head mutely, and Ichigo gave him a tiny smile and a quick pat on the knee before allowing him to close his eyes again.

"Then… I can start there."

Ichigo's attention snapped back to her fellow Mew Mew, and she was momentarily shocked at the deep determination settled in Lettuce's face. That shock quickly gave way to a surge of hope.

"Hai." With that, Lettuce rose, fingered her charm in a brief moment of affirming her resolve, and brushed the yellow metal with her lips.

"Mew Mew Lettuce, Metamorpho-sis!"

A second later, the girl stood fully clothed in Mew Mew attire. Ichigo swallowed as her friend moved to the door before blurting out an anxious "Be careful!" Lettuce turned to give the girl a reassuring smile and silent nod. Then she was gone; Ichigo heard the door click shut.

"And please… hurry back," she whispered into the silence, reaching out and dampening a cloth before pressing it against Kisshu's cheeks and neck in a vain attempt to cool him down.

It took Lettuce only a few minutes to reach the area she knew hid the opening to the aliens' dimensional base. The ability to tirelessly leap over buildings made the trip quite simple.

Now came the hard part.

She stood on the rooftop, staring at the empty air where the gateway lay.

The problem was, how was she to get Pai out? How could she even be sure that he was in there?

All of this swirled about in a cloud of threatening doubt in her mind as she bit her lip.

Then, she decided to do the only thing that she could think of.

"P-pai-san…" she murmured, taking a deep breath in an attempt to steel herself against her habitual timidity.

"Pai-san!" she called, voice ringing with new volume in the frigid air. Again and again she called, with an added "Please, answer!" punctuating her final plea. Now all she could do was wait.

She had not expected it to be such a _short_ wait.

Thus, she couldn't help gasping when the alien appeared on the rooftop across from hers.

Her first thought was a strangled _Oh my God, what now?_ Her second, however, was more concerned than anything else.

She could immediately see that he was tired, awfully tired, and that he was trying his damned hardest not to show this. From a single glance, she saw a deep depression, a cold worry that she had never seen on his normally-apathetic face.

Now she knew that it was possible. Now she knew that he _did_ care.

All she needed to do was convince him that she could help. Needless to say, she expected this to be easier said than done.

"P-pai—"

"Why are you here, human?"

The blunt coldness of his voice silenced her with stark abruptness, but she looked at his drawn face once again, and it inspired another attempt.

"I'm not here to fight," she began, deciding that that was the most important thing to establish before going further. "I—"

She stopped here, because she saw him tense, saw that he did not believe her. At first, this discouraged her. However, she realized that between his obvious exhaustion and worry and her Mew Mew attire, she could expect little else. This influenced her next action.

She powered down.

As Pai watched, a perplexed expression creeping into his face, Lettuce shimmered and her regular jacket and winter skirt replaced the battle costume.

"I need your help," she continued, straining to meet the alien's eyes. "Ki… that is, Ichigo… I mean…" she frantically searched for a way to tactfully word the unorthodox situation, but he interrupted her before she succeeded.

"I know where he is, and I can't help you."

He sounded so final, so utterly rigid in that statement that for a fraction of a second, Lettuce considered giving up. Then she remembered a tearful Ichigo tending the weak Kisshu, and that fraction of a second fell, forgotten, to oblivion.

"Please, Pai-san," she saw that, for the briefest of moments, he seemed to almost jump when she said his name in that pleading tone.

"Kisshu... he's very sick. We… Ichigo can't bring his fever down, and I—"

"You heard me," he began, a true growl lacing his voice, "I can't help you."

She heard the anger, heard the hopelessness, in his voice, and she realized two things.

One: His anger was not truly directed at her, but at Deep Blue, and two: he was as afraid for Kisshu as Ichigo was. As she herself was.

_They're like us. If Ichigo was that sick, and I couldn't do anything… if I was forbidden to help her… it's the same, all of it._

Pai was worried about his friend.

It was as simple as that.

Her voice rang with a new confidence, a new compassion as she wrung her hands.

"I know what Deep Blue said. I know, and I… I understand how you—"

"Don't compare yourself to me, human." That same coldness, yet that same worry running underneath its surface, met her ears.

"Please… it's the same. You are worried about someone important to you, just as I would be. Pai-san…" she trailed off as a look of disbelief crossed his face. Apparently, he had not expected her to guess his thoughts with such absolute accuracy.

Suddenly, Lettuce was aware of a shift in the conversation. Suddenly, Pai lost his dominant stature, gazing back at her with… she was surprised to see it… desperation in his eyes.

"Deep Blue has forbidden it."

She knew she was making progress when he said that name with a tinge of despair. Now she was getting somewhere.

"We just need medicine. We need to bring his fever down. Surely there has to be a way…"

He looked down at the ground, seeming to mull her words over in his mind before looking back at her. What he said next surprised her, really, truly shocked her.

"May I see him?"

Taken aback, she could only stare at him, lips silently parted before the request completely registered. There was only one answer she could give.

"O-of course."

"May I ask you to…" He trailed off, either embarrassed at asking his enemy, or plainly worried about the reaction his master would have. Either way, Lettuce allowed herself a reassuring smile and a nod.

"I'll lead you—"

He cut her off by flying over from the other building and landing in front of her, disconcertingly close. She did not know how she knew, but she was quickly certain of exactly what he was asking.

"I—"

"It is the fastest way."

She knew now how desperately he wanted to see his friend, and she could only nod before moving towards him and allowing him to encircle his arms around her waist. A moment later, she faintly heard his voice through the blood that had suddenly begun pounding in her ears.

"Stay still, and concentrate on the destination. You have to… lead me."

Lettuce nodded, nervously, shyly, as his arms tightened around her and a shift in reality occurred. In moments, they were teleporting, and the girl's vision blurred as she tried to focus her mind on an image of Ichigo's room.

The teleport seemed to last forever, and the girl found herself losing her senses. Everything was becoming indistinct, fuzzy, for lack of a better term, and she briefly wondered if she was going to pass out.

The only reason she didn't was because Pai gave her a quick squeeze, bringing her back to total consciousness, even if it did make her blush with a ferocity that startled her. After all, why should she blush…?

The topic could be pursued no further; the lines of Ichigo's room came into focus, and Lettuce suddenly found herself standing on solid ground again.

That, and she saw that she was going to have to do rapid damage control. Pai's sudden appearance in the room had shocked Ichigo into a violent defensive mode. Lettuce had never seen her so frantic, so agitated.

Had she been in cat form, her fur would have been standing on end.

"Get _away_ from here," she snarled at the older alien, eyes narrowed into dangerous slits, posture similar to a feline ready to leap in attack. What she thought, neither Lettuce nor Pai could really know, but the fact that Pai seemed most loyal to Deep Blue, to the one who had ordered Kisshu's banishment, could only have given her the worst of thoughts. It was quite probable that she thought Lettuce had failed, and that Pai had come to kill the other alien.

"No! No, Ichigo, it's ok. I brought him," Lettuce frantically jumped, realizing that she had been obscured from view and stepping out where she could be plainly seen. "He just… he wanted to see Kisshu-san. Ok, Ichigo?"

It was amazing how quickly the cat-girl wilted. Her posture relaxed. The anger in her eyes melted away into that old concern and a new, suspicious curiosity as Pai took a few steps forward. She looked to Lettuce, who nodded, and cautiously stepped aside.

The older alien stared down at his green-haired companion, who seemed to have fallen asleep in his propped up position, chest rising and falling rhythmically even while his breaths held a slight rasp. In a solitary glance, Pai could tell that his worst fears were true, that Kisshu was gravely ill, that the Mew Mew hadn't been lying. It all brought a fresh wave of guilt and despair. As he reached out to place a hand on Kisshu's forehead, carefully, so as not to wake him, frowning at the temperature, he had only one thought: _this is all my fault_. All of it because of him… for listening to Deep Blue… yet, what could be done? How could he sacrifice his entire race for Kisshu's wellbeing? Still… it made the sight of the suffering alien no less difficult to behold.

As Ichigo and Lettuce watched this, a strong sense of sympathy overcame them both as they saw the gesture, the moment, for what it was: a friend caring for a friend. Both saw how easily the situation could be applied to them, how close it all was. Ichigo struggled with the meaning of all of it, while Lettuce murmured a pleading, "He needs medicine."

Pai's brow furrowed, his eyes narrowed as he tried to find a way, a compromise…

In the end, he gave in. Simple as that. A soft cough from his ailing friend only sealed the decision.

With a wave of his hand, he produced a small bottle filled with a clear red liquid from the air. Without hesitating, he tossed it at Lettuce who, though startled, managed to catch it.

"We are not taking care of him," he said, voice ringing with a sternness that did not match his actual emotions. "Do not bring him anywhere near our base, do not ask for assistance." Lettuce watched, transfixed, as he turned his gaze to her.

There was a shadow of a smile on his lips.

"You stole that from us. We will not allow you to steal anything more."

Before he vanished, Lettuce was positive he gave her a look of total gratitude.

The two girls were left to stare at the vial in stunned silence before a jolt of relief overcame Ichigo, and she threw her arms around her friend.

"Arigatou!"

* * *

Author's Note: People… no sleep rocks I dunno when the next installment will come, but hopefully it won't take as long as this one. I'm also planning to do a little drabble… always fun As always, read and review!

P.S. This is getting posted after I really had it done because was being... bitchy, for lack of a better term. I also would like to inform you all that I got my full 8 hours of sleep because we had a snow day! Of course, there actually wasn't that much snow, but who cares? XD


	14. Chapter 14

AN: I am SO SORRY. I did _not_ mean to go that long without updating, and I really do apologize for the wait! I mean, even _I_ was impatient with myself :P

That said, lemme try to rationalize my lateness. This was a rather special case, and it shouldn't happen again. This week was special because all of the early decision applicant to colleges (any seniors, reading, you'll know what I mean) were getting their college acceptance/deferral/rejection letters. That includes me.

Let me tell you all something. Writing does not work when you're nauseous from anxiety over whether or not you got into college. It just doesn't, particularly when it's fluff. So sorry. I just couldn't do it. Now, however, it's all nicely fixed.

Cuz I actually got into my first choice, Cornell University. Dance for me :P

Thus, college worries are OVER, and I can focus properly on the truly important things in life: writing this fic, and hunting Aoyama's BLOOD.

Yuppers :P.

So, we have chapter 14 finished, but before we go on to it, I think I'll answer some reviewers, simply because it's been sooo long, and I just happen to feel like it. That, and it's only 11:50 PM, which is very early for me after my usual 1 AM bedtimes.

Jenvaati: Yes, he must be cured. That doesn't mean we have to stop the fluff, though :P.

Dust-in: You're just like my friend Toni (Sugary Fluff). She's gone psycho over Pai/Lettuce. She _loves_ that pairing. Thus, I will probably have to put in more P/L moments. If I don't, she'll eat me. Will I ever write a fic? Maybe a drabble, some day. Perhaps. Or maybe I can get Toni to write one… hehe.

BondageCareBear: Mhmm… Masaya must die. I think the universe has established this as a general law of nature.

KishuxIchigo4lyf: I'm updating, I'm updating. I know, long wait, but what can I say? Waiting for college decisions is _nasty_.

Snowbluerat: Ooh… you're the Pai/Kisshu writer, aren't you? Along with zoshu, I think. You know, if I wasn't so K/I obsessed and such a P/L supporter, I'd prolly go for K/P. I'm usually a yaoi-supporter as it is. Hehe. Thanks for the review.

Camurei4ever: I try to keep my grammar in check, really, I do :P. And I also have a rabid fear of ruining characters, so your review means a lot to me. Thanks! Oh, and now I'm rather proud; I love converting people. I turned Toni onto P/L, and Sheeba… well, she turned herself onto R/L after ep 41. Still, I did manage to get them both off of I/M. That's a nice accomplishment, no? I hope your fondness for the pairing continues to grow!

Everyone else: Thanks a lot, you guys! Your reviews do mean so much to me, and again, I'm sorry for taking so long!

Another little thing. I've actually found an I/M fic I like. Yea, I know, cringe, gasp, through sharp pointy objects. How dare I, eh? Well, this one is just _funny_. Go read it if you feel like it. The title's "My Christmas Kitten," and it's written by Rurouni Linda-sama. It's just hilarious, even though it's Aoyama.

Ok… anything else… lesse…

Oh! I did write that drabble. Hah. So I _haven't_ been entirely useless. If you feel like reading that, go into my profile. Not hard to find :P.

I do have my TMM Pairings Proof According to the Laws of Botanical Aesthetics, but that can wait until the next author's note. I think we all just want to get to the chapter. So, without further ado…

Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own it. Let's check ep 45… mhmm. Definitely still don't own it.

* * *

Unsurprisingly, Ichigo was immensely eager to give her charge the medication. Lettuce had to take a step back to keep the other girl from grabbing the vial.

"Lettuce, give me the—"

"Ichigo-san," she answered gently, unconsciously fingering the bottle, "I think we should see if there are directions first, just to be safe."

Ichigo blushed. _Oh… duh_. She looked down at the ground, momentarily embarrassed at her lack of thought. Then again, she couldn't really blame herself, could she? As Lettuce peered at the medicine, Ichigo turned around to gaze back at the sleeping alien. No, not at all. Her desperation was totally justified.

Still, she was glad Lettuce was thinking clearly.

Her train of though was interrupted by her friend giving a soft noise of curiosity, fingers running over the bottle's glass surface as she murmured to herself, "There are instructions written here…" Ichigo waited, breath catching in her throat as a sudden wave of anxiety (_What if there's something wrong with it?_) overtook her. She relaxed when Lettuce let out the breath she had been holding, a small smile lightening her expression.

"It says that it reduces fever and helps whomever takes it sleep. One spoonful every six hours. But…" she squinted to make out the remaining text, "it says it's rather strong. He probably shouldn't take it on an empty stomach, Ichigo."

The girl's face fell. She had been hoping to give Kisshu the medicine right away.

That, and she had not prepared any food.

"I don't have any—"

To her surprise, Lettuce's smile grew stronger. Her eyes flickered to the thermos of miso soup sitting on the dresser, patiently waiting to be put to good use, then focused on the nervous cat-girl's face. "You asked me to bring some food, remember?"

_Oh_, Ichigo blinked, _yeah…_

Now she allowed herself a faint smile as well.

"Then I guess I should…"

"I'll go downstairs and make some more soup for later, ok? If you need me…"

"I'll call you," Ichigo answered with a smile that was growing ever brighter, ever more relieved. "Thank you, Lettuce."

The other girl answered with her own sweet smile before exiting the room, closing the door softly behind her. Before she turned away to walk down the hallway and descend the stairs, she could not keep a light sigh from escaping her as her smile softened.

She _knew_ that everything would be fine.

How it was that she knew, she could not say.

It had to do with the medicine, of course. Now that they had that vial with its precious contents, Kisshu's chances looked infinitely better.

That was not all of it, however. This thought made her blush slightly, why, she could not understand.

There was something besides the medicine, something in the new way Ichigo looked at the alien boy. She had heard it first, in Ichigo's voice over the phone, in the sharp fear that had governed her tone. She had seen it in Ichigo's eyes whenever she looked at him; it shone within that gaze of sincere concern.

At first, it had confused her, and that had been totally expected when, for so long, Ichigo had had that special tender look for Aoyama and Aoyama alone. Lettuce had been perplexed when she first witnessed Ichigo's kindness connected with _Kisshu_, but now, after seeing the cat-girl softly quiet the alien boy, after feeling that sense of reassuring warmth when her friend saw the medicine that would help put an end to her charge's suffering, she knew a feeling of peace with the ordeal.

It was no real secret, in her mind, that she had left not only to prepare some more food, but also to leave the two alone together.

Ichigo loved Aoyama.

Kisshu was an alien, and, technically, still the enemy.

That was all true, but it did not smother Lettuce's instinctive urge to leave the two alone together, to allow a chance for this new tenderness within Ichigo to grow.

Despite the rules… Lettuce knew something could happen.

Would happen…

All of these thoughts contributed to that secret little smile that rested in her features as she began to search Ichigo's kitchen for whatever ingredients she might need.

* * *

As soon as Lettuce left, Ichigo hurried to the dresser, grabbed the still-warm thermos of miso soup, and sat down in the desk chair beside the bed. Before moving to wake Kisshu, she unscrewed the lid, inhaling the aroma of the soup and smiling again, sending a mental thank you to her companion. With that, she slowly poured the stuff into the bowl that had remained from the ramen she had fed the alien the day before. With all the events of the past twenty-four hours, she had not had time to take it back downstairs. It was just as well; somewhere in the back of her mind, she realized that she did not want to leave the boy's side again, not even for a minute.

Setting the bowl down on the night table, she began to reach out to shake the alien awake, hesitating momentarily as she gazed at his relaxed face. Ichigo didn't really _want_ to wake him; getting him to fall asleep was so difficult, but a single glance at the dangerous flush coloring his cheeks eliminated her doubts. _Besides_, she thought with a small wave of determination, _the medicine should help him sleep, anyway_.

Confidence renewed, she bit her lip lightly as she touched his shoulder, but still couldn't find it in her to jolt him awake like that.

Her solution? Without even thinking about what she was doing, she left his shoulder in favor of his cheek, tenderly caressing it, quietly saying his name until his eyes fluttered open to alight upon a new smile quickly settling on her face.

Immediately, she saw that in spite of his open eyes, he could hardly be called alert. That, and there was a spark of growing confusion in his golden irises that called up that familiar pang of sympathy. Before even touching upon the subject of taking the medication, she felt the need to extinguish that spark as much as she possibly could.

"Hey, Kisshu," she murmured, taking to brushing his hair back as his eyes slowly focused on her. To her delighted relief, his pale lips gradually mirrored her smile, and he answered her in a weak, but calm rasp.

"Hey, koneko-chan…" he stopped to cough lightly, and Ichigo felt her eyes mist over, because she knew instantly that he was trying to sound more like himself, using that pet name as he did, trying to act as he usually did in an effort to reassure her. This, combined with her memory of him telling her not to cry when he was in so much obvious pain… it only urged her on in her efforts to comfort him.

"How do you feel?" she went on, trying to make him more alert before trying to feed him and give him the medicine. To her surprise, he gave a half-hearted snicker that turned into a cough before answering.

"You really…" he took a few breaths, suddenly seeming to grow dizzy and recovering just as quickly, "wanna know?"

Ichigo could only struggle to keep that reassuring smile on her lips and her worry in check while she continued smoothing back his hair, shaking her head lightly in the only response she could give.

Deciding that he was finally aware enough, she brought up the good news she had been waiting to give.

"We got the medicine, Kisshu," her smile grew, her voice turning ever sweeter, "After you eat something, I'll give it to you, and you'll feel much better."

She grew more worried, more pressured to follow through, when it took him a few moments to actually process the information, and even after that, he gazed back at her with confusion tingeing the gold of his eyes.

"Where…?"

Now it was her turn to be baffled. "Where… where what?"

He sighed softly before answering, closing his eyes again to ward off another bout of apparent dizziness. It called up another pang of fear within the girl; she suddenly worried about him tiring before she had a chance to give him the treatment he needed.

"Where… from where…"

"Oh! We got it from Pai," she explained, a bright smile meeting his questioning look as she reached for the soup, believing all his questions dealt with. She was shocked to see him shake his head, barely-focused eyes adopting a glint of… fear, perhaps? Definitely mistrust.

"No, no… he's not… wouldn—" he broke off coughing, Ichigo looking on anxiously as he struggled to complete whatever statement he was trying to say, "Deep Blue… too… wouldn't…"

It seemed to take much of his energy out of him, and he lay back against the headboard and pillows with a gasp of pain and exhaustion as Ichigo watched, a cold dread forming in the pit of her stomach.

"No, Kisshu, he _did_, he really…" she bit her lip, suddenly realizing that the alien probably did not remember the encouragement he had given Lettuce to go ask Pai, that he probably did not even remember that the other girl had been here. He certainly could not know… know what? How did Ichigo herself know that the medicine was real, and not, perhaps, some sort of poison meant to finish the weakened alien?

It had to do with the way Pai had looked when he had seen Kisshu.

The gratitude in his gaze as he tossed the vial to Lettuce was also a chief reason for Ichigo's confidence.

How was she going to explain all of this to the rapidly-tiring Kisshu?

She had to try, at least.

"He was here, Kisshu. Lettuce brought him. She asked him for the medicine, and he—"

"Ohh…" Kisshu suddenly murmured, startling Ichigo enough to make her flinch. Accompanying this sigh of acceptance was a shadow of a grin that shocked Ichigo even more.

"The fishy did it… sure… he likes the fishy…" he ended with a delirious giggle before lapsing into shallow, rasping breaths, leaving Ichigo silent and staring.

On one hand, she was rather thankful for it having been that easy to convince him.

On the other, his instant switch into a delirious near-babble scared her senseless.

On yet another, she wondered exactly what he meant by "he likes the fishy"…

That last thought was ignored in favor of picking up the bowl of miso soup, cradling it in her lap, and spooning some of it up for him. She did not bother with chopsticks now; her need to get that medicine in him as quickly as possible was too great. Instead, she softly said his name, grabbing his attention before bringing a spoonful of the stuff to his lips. He only stared at it for a moment, either too tired to eat it, or wondering exactly what it was, before seeming to realize that he was, in fact, rather hungry despite his illness. After he took one spoonful, she prepared the next, and the next, until half the bowl was emptied. He leaned back, and Ichigo saw it was useless to push him to eat more; he had thoroughly exhausted any energy his recent short slumber had granted him, and now she would have to give him the medication quickly, before he lost consciousness again.

Setting the bowl down, she picked up the small bottle, eyes quickly scanning the directions again before she grabbed the spoon and poured the syrupy substance onto it. Ichigo almost made a face at the sharp, nearly chemical smell coming off of it, but stopped herself quickly, remembering that such a gesture could keep Kisshu from taking the medicine. His mind was so unstable, that she needed true care in handling him.

Thus, she quietly presented the stuff to him. Sure enough, he wrinkled his nose in weak disgust; even sick, he could tell that taking the red liquid would be markedly unpleasant. The reaction coaxed a faint chuckle from the girl; she would have been more amused had she not been so desperate to see him take it.

"Don't like that stuff," Kisshu mumbled, eying the medication with all the wariness returned to his gaze. "Burns every time…"

"Please, Kisshu?" she tried to make her voice as pleading as possible to encourage him. Truth be told, she was so anxious to help him, she didn't have to try very hard at all. "It'll make you feel better," she insisted, eyes holding his tired gaze. "I promise," she added in a softer tone, and this seemed to fully sway him. He obediently took the mouthful, swallowing it and, to Ichigo's dismay and startled fright, began coughing violently as soon as the stuff reached his throat.

Apparently, when he said it burned, he was not joking.

She frantically poured another glass of water, but saw that making him drink at this point would only lead to his choking. All she could do was put a gentle hand on his back and try to reassure him as much as she could with her warm touch as he struggled to regain his breath.

When he was finally able to breathe somewhat normally, she offered him the water, which he drank slowly, wincing, she noticed, with every swallow.

"It… it really burns?" she whispered to herself, starting slightly when he nodded in response, and she realized he had heard her.

It came again, that overwhelming wave of sympathy, as she squirmed at the thought of the liquid causing him so much discomfort. He spoke again, a simple, frail "It does," and she could tell that his throat was burning worse than ever.

"Do you want some tea?" she asked quietly, her hand coming to rest on his knee while he slowly shook his head. "It'll st—" she swallowed hard as he fell into another painful coughing fit, flinching visibly as his eyes watered from the horrid sensation. The episode left him fairly gasping, and all Ichigo could do was sit down on the edge of the bed, reaching out to stroke one of his pigtails in an effort to calm him.

Almost automatically, he leaned towards that source of comfort, and she allowed him to rest against her. As he lay his head against her shoulder, he trembled with a sudden chill, and the girl unconsciously wrapped an arm around him, ever gentle in regards to his bandaged shoulder.

"Are you cold?" she murmured, but he ignored the query, instead giving a faint sigh.

"Tired…"

_That's right… this stuff should help him sleep._

Sure enough, his eyes were beginning to close. She began to shift away from him, gingerly laying him down, when he made a soft noise of protest. She stopped, giving him a gentle, but confused look.

"Don't you want to sleep?" she asked, smile lifting her lips as she again tried to get up and allow him to lie down, only to suddenly feel his weak grip on her arm. Her eyes flickered to his face, and she froze momentarily, surprised to see him looking back at her, a pleading expression shining through the fever in his eyes.

"Don't… could you… could you please…?" he averted his eyes abruptly, and Ichigo realized that the flush on his cheeks was deepening not because his fever had suddenly risen, but because he was _blushing_. This inspired an actual, sincere smile.

It was quite funny, really, that when he was being rude, cruel, or annoyingly possessive, he could leap in and kiss her without the minutest shred of humility. Now, however, faced with sincere need and a real desire to have Ichigo close to him, he turned bashful.

In spite of the situation, Ichigo could not get that smile off her face.

That was _adorable_.

It also called up absolutely no doubt within her mind, and she answered him immediately.

"Sure."

With that, she carefully positioned herself behind him, sitting up against the headboard while remembering that he had claimed his breathing was easier when he was upright. Relaxing on some of the pillows stacked up against the headboard, she gingerly pulled the alien to her with one arm, grabbing the blankets with the other. Another light shiver from him compelled her to tuck the blankets in around both of them.

A few moments later, when she was sure the boy was totally covered, she wrapped her arms around him as he curled up against her, laying his head on her chest before closing his eyes. He murmured something that sounded like a thank-you, but she couldn't be sure; the medicine was beginning to kick in, and a tranquil silence settled over the two.

For a few minutes, this silence reigned supreme, and Ichigo thought Kisshu had fallen asleep. She was drifting off herself, and so was startled awake at the sound of her name.

"Ichigo?"

"Mmm?" she replied, a hand slowly stroking his hair as she looked down at him, a wisp of drowsy pleasure tickling her at the sight of a faint smile on his relaxed face.

"…feel just like mom…" he whispered back, shifting slightly, cuddling against her more, curling up until she could feel his legs brush her arms.

It occurred to her that she had never really thought about his _having_ a mother. That notion had never come up. Now, after the initial shock inspired by the statement, her countenance softened. She laid her cheek against the top of his head, arms giving him a gentle squeeze as she realized, very suddenly yet with a natural, accepting happiness, that this ranked as perhaps the greatest compliment she had ever received.

All of the comments Aoyama had ever made on her looks, her personality, and her actions, simply paled in comparison to this sleepy whisper from the alien boy. Perhaps it was the peace of the moment, or her bone-deep relief at finally having given her charge the treatment he needed. Maybe it had to do with the way he nuzzled her, so content to just be able to feel her tender caress. She could not know the reason, but that mattered so _little_, not at all, as she buried her fingers in his hair.

The most interesting and most…telling… part about it was that not once did she hear from that normally tireless voice that preached the virtues of Aoyama. Nothing. Not the softest, tiniest peep.

That voice could not have been further from her thoughts as she smiled, chuckling just a bit before murmuring back, "What's she like?" She somewhat regretted asking after the act was done; she was really hoping the boy would fall asleep. Even so, his voice, however rough and rasping, brought her a tinge of joy and comfort that she did not want to ignore. Besides, she reflected, the medicine would put him to sleep soon, and it would probably be more reassuring to him to have her gently talk him to sleep rather than have him lay silent, able to focus only on his own pain and weakness before sleep finally took him. Thus, she continued to gently play with one of his pigtails as he answered.

"Nice… smells like…" he drifted off before the name came to his mind, "…like vanilla." Eyes still closed, he smiled. "Feels like you… warm, like you…" he breathed deeply for a few moments before adding, a wistful tone invading his voice, "didn't want me to go…"

_Go? Go where…?_ Ichigo wondered to herself as she looked down at Kisshu, bemusement crossing over her face before she uttered a soft, almost inaudible gasp, understanding coming in a sharp jolt.

_She didn't want him to come here…_

So many new thoughts, new realizations, flooded her mind, none of them cheerful. Her eyes filled with sympathetic tears, as one of her fingers caressed his cheek.

Had his mother been afraid for him? She must have been. Of course, she was a mother, after all. If _her_ mother knew what she did on a regular basis, fighting terrible monsters, she'd surely throw a fit. How did his mother feel with her son countless miles away on a planet that was largely alien in spite of her people's legend about it? What could she possibly think about her child being so far away on such a dangerous mission?

She was probably scared senseless by the mere thought of it.

_If she's anything like my mother, she must worry every day, every minute…_

_And she has good reason_, Ichigo quietly told herself, her focus back on the sick alien boy. Suddenly, her thoughts took a different turn that only strengthened that feeling of empathy.

How did _he_ feel about it? So far from the home he had known for his entire life… away from his mother and perhaps his siblings, his friends… so far away, now rejected by his comrades, rejected and alone and sick…

Now a tear did roll down her cheek.

He never acted it under normal circumstances, during their many battles, during his taunting, but after seeing his fear of death earlier today, after being with him for the past two, it occurred to her, bringing an unpleasant, sickening sensation of guilt, that for all his nonchalance, for his carefree attitude, he probably felt the same fears she felt on those days when she realized that she was only a child fighting to protect her entire planet.

How old was he? He couldn't have been much older than she.

A child… a child, just like she was, fighting to save his people from their suffering. Fighting, just like she, for what he _believed_ in.

_Ichigo_ felt fear for herself, for her friends, so often during the battles, and she was on her home planet, still near her family, still near those who could help her. Kisshu… he was so far from his entire life, and now the only connections he had to it, Pai and Taruto, had been taken away from him because… because of _her_.

She remembered what he had said during that same battle that had given him his wound, how he had spoken so passionately of his reasons… of Pai and Taruto's reasons…

He had seemed so loyal to that cause, yet he had thrown all of it away to awaken her… to save her _life_…

That meant…

God, that meant…

"She must be proud," she whispered to him, into his elfin ear, even with that tempest of growing compassion and regret forever whirling in her mind. "Very, very proud."

Ichigo knew that if her mother knew what she was doing, she'd be proud of her.

If that was true, then Kisshu's mother, waiting and worrying for a son whose job was so much harder than that of his human adversaries, must have been brimming with pride. Her son, Ichigo now thought, was braving so much, and he was so…

Alone… so utterly alone now…

_I have Minto and Lettuce, and Pudding, and Zakuro, and even Shirogane and Akasaka-san… whom does he have? I've taken away all he had…_

Her caresses, her gentle ministration, her reassuring murmurs… it all seemed so much more important now. Now, she knew a sense of… she did not know. Her mind was still reeling from those thoughts about his being _afraid_.

She was pulled out of them by his soft cough, followed by a faint chuckle.

"S'worth it… always wanted… just like this…"

At first, Ichigo was confused, pink eyes widening as she wondered what that had to do with his mother. As he lapsed into silence, shivering lightly with another chill in spite of his fever, as she gingerly rubbed his arms underneath the covers, careful not to harm his bandaged injury, to give him some extra warmth, she understood what he meant, and this time, the gasp was quite audible and followed by a soft, yet firm, "Kisshu, no, it's not—"

He managed to cut her off, even in his state, because of how flustered she was.

"Yeah… cuz you're so soft… so good…mine…I love…"

His words were so quiet, so frail, yet to her, they echoed with a volume she could not explain.

Rendered speechless, all she could do was hold back a sob as one arm came out from where it had been wrapped around him under the blankets, and she tenderly touched her palm to his cheek, holding him against her chest as he finally fell asleep.

It was done.

That was really quite funny, because she had not really been tracking it, and thus had no idea that it was nearing completion, or that it _could_ near completion.

She had been aware of it when it began, of course, back when she found him in the snow and apologized to him, bringing him back and facing the start of his illness. She had felt it start then.

Then, however, she had forgotten it. In her desperation to battle his sickness, she had ignored it. Heck, not even in _that_ desperation.

It had been in her desperation to keep things as they had always been, her desperation to ignore Lettuce, to ignore that night, that battle, that awakening.

She had tried, and she hadn't been aware of her failure until it was complete.

"Kisshu," she murmured, hushed so as not to wake him, "I'm sorry…"

The girl had to stop for a few seconds; the sob that threatened to escape her may have disturbed him.

"I'm sorry for what I did… for what I've cost you. I'm so sorry…"

Her hand moved from his cheek t his hair, and she began to run her fingers through it, brushing out the sweaty tangles that had formed over the course of his illness.

"It's so hard… it must be, for you. It's so hard to fight alone, even when you believe in something so much. But you still… you still…"

She could not bring herself to say "you still threw it away for me". If she did, she would not be able to control her tears.

"I'm sorry," she gasped, a sob slipping from her throat. For a moment, she laid her head against his, focusing on the feel of his hair against her cheek. The arm still wrapped around him moved, hand gingerly settling over the bandaged part of his chest, moving, searching until it felt the faint but steady beat of his heart. It stayed there for a few moments, and, her cheek still pressed against the sleeping Kisshu's head, Ichigo smiled through the tears, smiled, it seemed, with a sudden new resolution.

"I'm sorry for lying, Kisshu," she continued, lifting her head up to look down at him, down at a face whose flush seemed to have receded a bit, a face that was finally relaxed in a blessedly deep, peaceful sleep.

Her finger traced his cheek, his jawline, the edge of his ear, as she swallowed a sob of happiness before righting what she now saw as the greatest untruth she had ever uttered.

"I love you."

That affirmation was all that she needed to chase away those unsettling feelings of guilt and despair, all she needed to allow herself to close her eyes and join Kisshu in slumber.

* * *

This was how Lettuce found them, about half an hour later, when she came upstairs to check on her friend after wondering about the total quiet from upstairs.

She nudged the door open silently, her face adopting a tender expression as her eyes landed on the bundle of blankets and its occupants, both sleeping peacefully, both somehow looking much better than when she had seen them last.

Lettuce, of course, could attribute that to Kisshu's medicine and the relief it brought Ichigo.

As she smiled, she also knew that it was connected to that little something-else that could happen. That would happen…

That _had _happened.

With a last glance at the couple, Lettuce gently pulled the door closed and tiptoed downstairs.

Back in the room, Kisshu and Ichigo slept on, safe and peaceful in a warm embrace.

* * *

AN: My gods, the fluff. The FLUFF. Heh. Ok. Well, that's done. Hope you guys enjoyed it. So, until next time (which hopefully won't be nearly as long), I bid you adieu. Oh, and Dust-in, if you're reading this, I'd like to inform that I'm thinking about some P/L in the next chappie. That said, adios! 


	15. Chapter 15

AN: All right, boys and girls, we're back after a nice holiday break with the longest chapter so far! Yay! First and foremost, the traditional holiday greetings, however late:

Merry Christmas, Happy Chanukkah, Happy Kwanzaa, Happy Yule, and Happy New Year!

Hope everyone had a lovely holiday :P.

Now, I'll keep this brief, because I have work, eh, today… and I have to sleep to be semi-conscious tomorrow. On to the replies!

Kaoru: Dun worry, I'm not finished just yet :P I'm enjoying this sucker too much, and even when I do finish, I'll probably end up writing drabbles. So you'll be seeing me around for a while, I think.

isa18: Thanks for the review! Huggies back :).

BlackWingedGabriel: Hehe. I always love your comments. Well, this is my fifteenth, and 6.5 x 103 words long! Yay scientific notation :P Yea.. that was random. Well, enjoy the next chapter.

Baka Orange Neko: Aww, that's sweet. Meh, I ain't the best, I but do have nice grammar. That, I can say, heh. Yea, 8th grade, still working on it all, eh? Good luck.

Snowbluerat: Aww, last K/I fic? Well, I'm honored to be your last, at least. Hope I leave you with a good memory of the coupling.

Dust-in: Ah, my P/L friend. Yes, we have a bit of P/L here. Implied, but present nevertheless, heh. That friend has to finish the series… and I will try to make her write P/L, mark my words! We need another P/L shipper around here… Heck, I may even write a drabble eventually…

Everyone else: Thanks for your reviews! They really mean a lot! Hope you enjoy the next chapter!

Now, on with the show!

…whoa. Cliché… sorry :P

Disclaimer: I don't own TMM. Done and done.

* * *

"You did _what_!" 

Pai frowned, looking down at his shorter companion in disapproval. "Any louder, Taruto, and Deep Blue will wonder what the commotion is about."

This silenced the younger alien instantly, though it did nothing to wipe the look of incredulity off his face. After a few moments tension, during which Pai turned back to the computer console he was standing at and attempted to resume his work, Taruto piped up again.

"So… what did she do?"

"She gave it to him, and they went to sleep."

"Whaddya mean, they went to sleep? You mean… together?"

Pai sighed in annoyance. He had expected his comrade's amazement at the fact that he had given the Mew Mews the medicine they had asked for, but they had already had that discussion. The uproar Taruto was currently in was a result of Pai admitting to having stayed outside Ichigo's window, safely hidden among the branches of one of the trees growing by the house, to see exactly how the two humans were caring for Kisshu.

He had been surprised (and slightly disappointed, but that was another point he did not really feel like exploring in front of Taruto) when Lettuce exited the room, leaving the cat-girl alone with her charge.

It was a shock that echoed his bemusement at Ichigo's reaction to his appearance in the room; she had seemed so… protective. Now, he could have expected her fearing for her _own_ life at the sight of him, but she hadn't shrunken away in favor of self-preservation. No, she had nearly hissed at him like the cat whose DNA she possessed, nearly pounced on him in her effort to protect… Kisshu. She had stayed right near him, positioned herself between him and Pai in a blatant effort to guard _him_.

It had given Pai a true jolt of surprise, but he had pushed that aside, anxious to examine his friend, then to give the girls the medicine and leave before Deep Blue somehow managed to sense with whom he was speaking. As he stood in that tree, watching Ichigo tend his companion, that surprise returned ten-fold.

He had always known of Kisshu's rather unhealthy obsession with the girl; indeed, it had been the cause of Deep Blue's rejecting him. Pai had also fully known that the girl did not return those feelings. It was that fact that had driven Kisshu so mad with frustration and despair.

Up until this point, Pai had regarded the entire matter with nothing but contempt. First, he believed that falling in love with the enemy was the most foolish thing Kisshu could have possibly done. Second, this girl did not even return his affections. Logically, it was all so ridiculous! Thus, Pai had tried his best to dissuade Kisshu from his pursuit of the girl, but Kisshu was Kisshu, and the other alien had totally ignored his older friend's advice. It had landed him in a seemingly hopeless situation: Pai and Taruto had been forced to leave their companion when he had needed them most.

At the time, Pai had been certain that Kisshu would die. His chances for survival in the unforgiving human city with those wounds were zero. Pai knew. He had calculated the exact probability in a quiet burst of hope that had quickly turned to despair.

Sitting in that tree, watching Ichigo, Pai saw that he had been quite obviously _wrong_. As he watched the girl calm her alien charge, watched her allow him to rest against her, watched her listen to his faint words and gently gather him into her arms before slumber took them, he saw that no matter how strange, how unlikely, it seemed, he had been _wrong_. It had left him speechless as he teleported back to the other dimension, and made answering Taruto's rapid-fire questioning all the more difficult. Now, faced with the younger boy's total disbelief, he didn't quite know what to say. He himself was still fairly reeling from what he had seen.

_She did not like him…no…she liked the other…but then why…why…?_

Was it possible that Kisshu's faith had not been misplaced?

Impossible, but somehow true.

Pai struggled to maintain composure, answering Taruto as best as he could.

"Yes, together." The fact that his voice remained totally steady when he said that even while he could barely believe it was truly a credit to his self-discipline.

"And she… wasn't hitting him or anything?"

"…no." She hadn't hit him… Pai had found himself amazed at how gentle she had been…

"You mean… she _wanted_ to—"

"_Yes_, Taruto!" In his own confusion, Pai yelled at his younger counterpart, and the boy fell silent. The older sighed; he hadn't meant to yell, but this entire situation…these circumstances…

Well, who could blame him?

He was about to offer an apology when Taruto continued, this time in a more somber tone.

"So… how is he? D'you think he'll be okay?"

"I…I don't know."

It was the only truthful answer he could give, for he truly did not see a logical end to this. He didn't even see its _beginning_. What could have compelled Ichigo to change her ways so completely?

Was it possible humans were not as heartless as Pai had previously thought?

No…that was absurd! There was no way…

Well… she _did_ seem properly shocked by his declaration of human selfishness after Kisshu's collapse…she had had the most confused look in her pink eyes…

But still… impossible… it was impossible…

_And that other girl…the green-haired one…she had nothing but sympathy—_

Pai blinked rapidly, extinguishing that thought before it could do more to wreak more havoc and add to the turmoil in his mind.

Controlling his voice as well as he could, he answered Taruto as truthfully, as confidently, as possible.

"He has a chance now."

Silence again; Pai tried to resume his work, but was met with more anxiety, more of the worry that he had tried so hard to ignore in favor of his duties. What if Deep Blue noticed his falling behind, noticed his changed behavior?

"P-Pai?" The elder tensed in preparation for another depressing question.

"Yes?"

"So, what about that green-haired girl? What did _she_ say?"

Well... _that_ destroyed any chance of getting back to work.

Taruto teleported away with a grin, leaving Pai to grumble to an empty room.

* * *

Lettuce started at the sudden beeping of her own cell-phone alarm, then relaxed as she remembered what she had set it for. Softly closing Pride and Prejudice and laying the book down on the kitchen table, she checked her watch and smiled. 10:42 PM: exactly six hours after Lettuce had left Ichigo to give Kisshu his first dose of the ruby-colored medicine. It was time for the next one. 

Ichigo and the alien had been, as far as Lettuce could tell, sleeping soundly; the cat-girl had left the room only once to go to the bathroom and replenish her supply of cloths and cool water during the trip. She had looked anxious enough leaving even for that necessity, and Lettuce was generally certain that she had spent the rest of her time holding Kisshu as he slept.

It was strange.

But it was also sweet.

As Lettuce softly opened the door, the sight of the alien boy curled up against the cat-girl, both sleeping deeply, both looking more peaceful than she had seen them since she arrived, made waking either of them up for the necessary dose a rather unfortunate inevitability. The girl sighed, quietly crossing the room and sitting down in the desk chair before tentatively reaching over to shake Ichigo awake.

She hesitated.

They looked so comfortable, so peaceful…

Then she noticed that the flush, absent for the past few hours thanks to the medicine, had returned to Kisshu's cheeks. _It has to be done…_ she thought with a twinge of disappointment.

It actually took a few firm shakes to even cause Ichigo to stir. Eventually, her eyes fluttered open and settled on Lettuce. She looked as if she wanted to stretch, but a quick glance down at Kisshu, still curled up against her chest, extinguished that desire. She smiled, yawning with a soft "nya." Before she had a chance to speak, Lettuce cleared her throat.

"How is he?"

Ichigo blinked, caught off guard by the abrupt question. Quickly recovering, she brought a gentle hand to Kisshu's forehead, frowning slightly.

"He's been asleep this whole time, and I thought he was better but…" A panic began to take hold of her; the fever was back, it was back and—

"It's okay, Ichigo-san. This," she held up the vial, "is fever _reducer_, remember? And sleep aid. He still has to fight off the illness on his own."

Lettuce felt a pang of sympathy at the sight of discouragement in Ichigo's face. "If he slept this long, then he _is_ better, isn't he? You told me that he could hardly sleep at all before," she reminded the other girl with a small smile. This had the desired effect, and Ichigo nodded, smiling back.

"Yeah…you're right."

Lettuce watched as Ichigo fingered a stray strand of the alien's hair before gently clearing her throat.

"You have to wake him up for the next dose now, all right?"

"I… what?" For a few seconds, Ichigo looked bewildered, balking at the idea of disturbing her sleeping charge. This expression, however, soon dissolved in a soft, embarrassed laugh.

"Of course, it's time for his next dose. That's why you woke me up, isn't it?"

Lettuce nodded rather sheepishly, trying not to seem too amused by her friend's ditziness. Ichigo's smile widened as she turned back to Kisshu, hesitating momentarily, wondering how best to wake him, then deciding on what had become a yet-to-be-admitted favorite action of hers: stroking his hair.

He had such soft hair…

Like Ichigo, Kisshu took his time waking up. When Ichigo first began stroking him, he mumbled something unintelligible in his sleep, not waking, but nuzzling up at Ichigo's neck. This inspired a soft, quickly suppressed giggle from Lettuce.

Ichigo, on the other hand, felt a light blush color her cheeks as his hair tickled her chin.

Nevertheless, she continued, now lightly tapping his cheek, softly calling his name.

All the while, Lettuce watched, oddly transfixed by these obvious gestures of affection. Did Ichigo know… surely… did she fathom the nature of her actions? Had she thought this all through, made good sense of it? Or was she simply acting on… on what? Repressed desires? Hidden feelings?

"I-Ichigo-san…"

Lettuce could not help murmuring her friend's name in a sudden bout of anxious concern. She immediately regretted it, seeing that questioning look in her pink eyes. The dolphin-girl did not want to bring it all up now, not when there were still a good deal of physical recovery ahead for their charge, but she could do little to ignore it. No matter how pleasant it was to see this strange change in Ichigo, no matter how dear the sight of the girl and the alien resting together was, the fact remained that this would lead to trouble somewhere down the line.

It worried Lettuce.

It created doubts, confusion… confusion about the aliens and their true motives…

It…it made her think of Pai…

Pai… and the way he had looked at Kisshu… that _despair_ in his deep violet ey—

She had to quickly curb that thought; letting herself fall too deeply into that realm of her psyche wouldn't do… it wasn't the _time_.

Luckily, both girls were saved by Kisshu's light stirring. Lettuce was able to focus on her hands, wringing them and trying to compose herself after that…digression, and Ichigo turned her attention back to the boy.

His eyes slowly opened, landing first on Ichigo, who gave him a soft smile.

"How are you feeling, Kisshu?"

Before he could answer, his eyes traveled to Lettuce and widened; apparently, he had not been expecting this audience. Still half-asleep, it alarmed him, and he made as if to jerk away, but Ichigo soothed him automatically.

"It's okay. She's only here to help, remember?"

To this the alien blinked, then nodded in a grudging sort of acceptance. Crisis averted, he began to answer Ichigo's question, only to find that his voice came out as a rasping croak, and the process of speaking resulted in sparks of pain in his throat. Seeing this, Ichigo silenced him with a shake of her head.

"Don't bother if it hurts that much. Just nod or shake your head. All right?" The alien obliged by nodding. Ichigo took this as encouragement.

"Are you feeling any better?"

The boy thought for a few seconds, taking a quick diagnostic inventory. He still felt unbearably weak, but that chilling feeling of near-death had certainly disappeared. Taking this as a good sign, he nodded, immediately feeling a twinge of happiness at the way Ichigo brightened at that news.

Even that small action, however, resulted in him suddenly feeling drained. Ichigo's smile faded a bit, concern taking its place.

"Still weak though, huh?" she murmured, a hand going to brush back his bangs. As her hand touched his forehead, she remembered why Lettuce and woken them up.

"Well, it's time for your second dose," she continued as cheerfully as she could, inwardly wincing at Kisshu's blatant grimace. "Yeah, I know, but it's the only way you'll get better." A grudging, tired nod from her charge answered her, and she began pushing him into a fully sitting position.

"Can you sit up for a bit?"

Again, a nod, and Kisshu sat up, looking generally exhausted by the effort, but steady enough.

Lettuce, who had been somewhat forgotten by her friend and ignored by the alien in his fatigue, spoke up softly.

"I made some herbal tea downstairs, Ichigo. Perhaps it will help him take it?"

Ichigo nearly jumped at the new voice, then proceeded to look slightly embarrassed at having so easily dismissed Lettuce's presence.

"That's a great idea, Lettuce," she answered, smiling in way of apology, and the other girl smiled back, a gentle "it's all right," an acceptance of Ichigo's absorption in her nursing. "I'll go get it, then."

A minute later, Ichigo had poured a spoonful of the evil-tasting medication, and Lettuce had returned with a warm cup of herbal tea. Kisshu swallowed the spoonful, coughing painfully as a result, and Ichigo gently shushed him before helping him drink the tea. After this, the girl took his temperature, relaxing slightly when she saw that, though still there, his fever was not nearly as high as the dangerous forty-two degrees of half a day ago. A few minutes later, Ichigo settled back against the headboard again, Kisshu curling up against her. While fixing the blankets over the drowsing alien, she caught Lettuce looking rather surprised at her return to that position. Oddly self-conscious under her friend's gaze, she blushed again, softly stammering an explanation.

"H-he breathes better sitting up."

Lettuce nodded, trying to hide her smile.

But with that smile came those urgent thoughts, and she was forced to stand; staying any longer would compel her to bring up the inevitable, and she did not want to disturb the alien and his caretaker. Already, the flush was fading from Kisshu's cheeks, and he looked so comfortable, resting against Ichigo. And Ichigo… she looked so content… no, it was too soon to voice the issues, Lettuce resolved firmly. It could wait, at least until morning.

With a warm smile, she began to tidy the night table, gathering up some glasses and cloths before addressing Ichigo.

"It's around 11:00 now. I think that dose will see him through the night."

Her friend smiled back. "Yeah." A moment later, she faltered.

"Are… are you…"

Lettuce shook her head. "I'll call my parents and tell them I'm sleeping over to help take care of you. They think _you're_ sick, and I'm sure they'll understand."

Ichigo relaxed. "Thank you, Lettuce." She looked down at the sleeping boy, suddenly realizing how enormously helpful her friend was being. "Really."

"It's no problem," Lettuce replied with a smile. Ichigo returned it, then quickly told Lettuce to grab a blanket from the hall closet and make herself at home in the spare guest bedroom. The other girl nodded her thanks. She left the room as Ichigo began to doze off again, heading down the stairs to eat a small supper of rice before following Ichigo's advice and turning in for the night.

* * *

Ever responsible, Lettuce had set her cell-phone alarm to wake her up at 7:00 AM to remind Ichigo to give Kisshu a third dose. She awoke to a grey morning, yawned, and put on her glasses. Getting up, she straightened out her clothes, briefly wishing she had thought to bring her pajamas. Then again, it wasn't as if she had known what she was getting herself into when Ichigo had called her. Perhaps today she could go back home and get a few personal items. She was fairly certain her parents would allow her to stay at Ichigo's as long as they believed the other girl needed her care. She momentarily winced at the lie; she did not like lying to her parents. 

Well… _someone_ was sick, even if it wasn't Ichigo, and the cat-girl did need her help. She supposed it was justified.

Pushing those thoughts to the back of her mind, she left the guest bedroom and made her way down the hall, ready to knock on Ichigo's door and politely wake the girl up to remind her of the dosage schedule, when a sudden, retching cough followed by weak complaining told her that Ichigo was a bit ahead of her. She could not help smiling. Complaining was a good sign; it meant he was healing.

Lettuce knocked and pushed the door open after a bright-sounding "Come in."

"Good morning, Ichigo-san," she greeted as she walked up to the girl, who was sitting beside the bed in the desk chair, "Kisshu-san," she added with a nod to the alien, who gave her a half-curious, half-annoyed look, and seemed as if he was ready to make some fish-related comment.

She wasn't offended; the situation was as strange and confusing to him as it was to the girls. Probably more so.

Besides, his complaints and snide remarks only meant that he was getting better.

As she looked at him, she saw that, while he still looked pale and tired, while he still seemed to use a lot of energy just sitting up without Ichigo's help, he looked countless times better than he had when she had arrived. Now, at least, when he looked back at her, his eyes weren't glazed over. He had his awareness back; the fever had receded enough to grant him lucidity.

There was no better proof of this than his giving her a weak yet amused smirk and quipping, in a voice so raspy that it was barely audible, "Whatcha lookin' at? I ain't Pai, y'know…"

He dissolved into a coughing fit even as Lettuce vainly tried to stop a blush from spreading across her cheeks. Ichigo responded with a shriek of "Kisshu!", but her friend could tell that she wasn't really angry. She could see the relief in her eyes. Even as the pink-haired girl seemed ready to smack her charge, she inwardly rejoiced at the return of his irrepressible character. It meant the danger was over. It meant she would not have to lose one that she lo—

Damn.

It also meant it was time to face those… _thoughts._

Thoughts that waited patiently for the chance to destroy all she had believed up until…

Up until she had awoken to Kisshu begging her to open her eyes.

Up until she had felt that desperation in every muscle of his body, had seen that glint of sorrow and terror in his golden eyes.

Up until he had put his life so quickly, so _easily_, into her trembling, unsure hands.

She bit her lip as she slowly rubbed the alien's back in an attempt to help him get his breath back. Dimly, she wondered if he had noticed the change, the difference in her manner of speaking to him. Now, for example, she hadn't snapped at him like she would have before. She hadn't told him off, not really. Perhaps now he would decide that it was because she was being gentle with him due to his illness, but he couldn't give that as an answer to everything. Being gentle and willingly holding, cradling, sleeping with… there was a big gap there, and when he was well enough to think clearly, he was going to notice that gap. He was going to notice, and no doubt he would ask her a question that she could avoid as easily as she could avoid her own thoughts. She could not push a question back and ignore it, especially not _his_ question. Kisshu was stubborn.

It went beyond Kisshu, though.

This would effect… this would eventually reach…

_Aoyama-kun…_

She had to focus very hard on rubbing Kisshu's back, concentrating solely on the sensation of his smooth skin underneath her fingers, on the feel of his vertebrae lying below that skin, on his wheezing breath to keep her mind free from those suffocating thoughts.

It was hard, because she knew that soon, she'd have to allow herself to sink into their depths.

She did not know if she'd come out of it unscathed.

Regardless…it would have to be done. Lettuce knew it, too. Ichigo could tell from the way she looked at Kisshu, at Ichigo herself. She could tell from the way she had reacted at the mention of Pai's name. No matter how hard the other girl tried, Ichigo had not overlooked that blush.

Perhaps, Ichigo thought with a half-relieved, half-coy smile, she was not alone in this new realm of feeling.

As Kisshu regained his breath, Lettuce nervously announced that she was going to go home for a few minutes to pack some personal items for an extended stay (she bowed to Ichigo, which would have been strange had the other girl not been able to blame it on how flustered her friend was due to Kisshu's comment), and left. Seconds later, Ichigo heard the door click closed, and knew that she and the boy were alone in the house.

Immediately, Kisshu looked at her with some of his old mischief dancing in his eyes.

"So, you want to get back to where we were?"

The words were there, but the usual suggestive bite was not. Was it because of the rasp marring his voice, his injured throat only allowing so much expression through? Or was it because he sensed that something had changed?

Had he heard her confession?

No…impossible. He had been dead asleep.

Then maybe he could just sense the unease knowing away at her psyche. Maybe he could see it in the way she only half-heartedly snapped at him for his comment, both now and before, regarding Lettuce.

She hoped he couldn't, but then, she couldn't really do anything if he _could_. She really did not want to think about it right now. Luckily, his response to her admonishment pulled her train of thought down a new track.

"Well, it's not like I can help it. I'm _bored._"

Her mothering instinct told her to demand that he shut up and rest, but she couldn't help a tickle of amusement at the grating whine attempting to make itself heard through the rasp in his voice.

He _was_ a normally active boy after all. Sick or not, so much inactivity must have been irking him to no end.

_Well, I suppose he can stand some time awake. He has been sleeping for a while now…_

"How about a game, then?"

He looked at her oddly at first, surprised by the random offer. Again, she wondered if he _knew_.

Then, he broke into a wan grin.

"Sounds good."

A minute later, Ichigo was setting up a game of Battleship ™ on the bed. After explaining the rules, Ichigo and Kisshu placed their ships and began gameplay.

Ichigo won the first match, but just barely. After that, Kisshu won a straight four times in a row, and after seeing his triumphant grin for the fourth time, Ichigo folded her arms with a frustrated "hmph".

"There's no _way_ you could win that often. You've never _played_ this before!"

Kisshu leaned back against the headboard, obviously tired, but still heavily amused.

"I can't help it if I'm good at the game, koneko-chan. But I have to admit, that last game was awfully easy…"

The girl couldn't help herself; she pouted at his jovial tone, and that only made his grin grow wider. He probably would have given her a good laugh had his throat not hurt so much.

Since he made no move to reset his pieces, relaxing instead against the headboard and ceasing to talk as a coughing fit seized him, Ichigo decided that he had played enough, and began to put away the game. As she got up, she turned around, glanced in the mirror hanging across from her bed out of habit, bent down to shove the game back under her bed…

_Hold on a second…_

She had been sitting a bit to the side of her game board, and that meant…

"You little cheater!" she exclaimed, fixing Kisshu with an accusing glare. "You saw my ships in the mirror, didn't you!"

Apparently, Kisshu had not expected to be found out, for he looked utterly surprised before bursting into what must have been painful laughter.

_Well, I'm glad he finds this funny enough,_ she thought angrily, placing her hands on her hips as the boy's laugh turned into another coughing fit. Sighing in exasperation, she poured him some more water from a pitcher Lettuce had brought up a while ago and sat down on the edge of the bed, waiting until the danger of choking had passed before pressing the glass to Kisshu's lips and forcing him to drink. He sat gasping after finishing, and Ichigo set the glass down on the night table. She turned to him, frown still firmly in place. He responded with an even weaker grin, exhausted from the fit.

"It's not like I could _help_ it. You have to admit, it was," he coughed lightly, "easy. You were asking for it."

"Hmph. If that's how you thank those who help you," Ichigo answered rather snobbishly, pouting slightly.

She was shocked to see a change come over the alien; he seemed to wilt under the supposed reproach, lips parting as he seemed to prepare…an apology? The grin had certainly faded.

Ichigo fought to keep her smile from getting too big as she got up and gathered the blankets around her charge, pulling them up around him. She didn't want to seem as if she had been won over so easily.

He could be so cute… when they weren't trying to kill each other.

Though she wasn't paying attention to it, that little thought only strengthened last night's confession.

As she told the alien to lay down, seeing that his breathing was easier now and that he'd probably be more comfortable laying than sitting now, she smoothed the blankets over him. Kisshu relaxed, Ichigo's faint smile and soft gaze immediately telling him to forget that last remark. He seemed to realize how exhausted the simple game had made him, and was soon watching Ichigo through half-lidded eyes.

Ichigo sat down next to him and saw that asking him to go back to sleep was rather pointless. Instead, she allowed her smile to grow, and she placed a hand on his forehead, noted that the medicine was successfully keeping his fever at bay, before brushing his bangs back in an unconscious gesture of affection that was becoming rather habitual.

"I'll wake you up later for something to eat, okay?"

Kisshu wanted to answer her, perhaps with a twinge of gratitude in his tone to make up for the cheating (which he still found rather funny), but he really _was_ tired, and barely managed a nod before falling asleep.

Ichigo sat beside him for a few more minutes to make sure he was sleeping deeply before getting up and comfortably leaving the room for the first time in two days. She finally felt confident enough about the situation to take time out for a shower.

Such was her relieved happiness that she even managed to avoid those dangerous thoughts.

* * *

Lettuce hurried down Ichigo's street, a knapsack containing her pajamas and various toiletries bouncing against her back. Her parents had been concerned when she told them that she'd be staying at Ichigo's even longer. They had even asked her if maybe her friend was sick enough to need the hospital. 

The girl had covered up the situation as neatly as she could, stammering that everything would be fine, that her friend only wished for some company during her illness, and that nothing was too serious.

Actually, she wished there was a hospital that could help Kisshu. She had no idea how long his illness would last or how much it would drain him. Of course, he was a strong boy; he could probably survive with enough care. The length of time was more worrisome; Ichigo's parents were due back in four days…

That problem would have to be addressed later. For now, Lettuce had to focus on not slipping on any patches of ice in the road.

Finally, Ichigo's house came to view, and Lettuce felt a wave of relief wash over her.

That wave retreated as quickly as it had come.

There was someone at the door.

Ringing the doorbell.

Looking up at Ichigo's balcony.

A few more steps down the road, and Lettuce could identify that someone.

It felt as if the frigid winter wind had suddenly decided to tickle her heart.

_Aoyama!_

* * *

As Ichigo dressed in fresh clothes, she frowned at the sound of the doorbell. 

Surely Lettuce had had the sense to take Ichigo's keys before leaving…

Confused, the girl returned to her room, crossed softly to the window, and peered downwards. Her eyes widened instantly.

"Aoyama-kun!" she gasped, covering her mouth the moment she said the name. Too late.

He looked up, and even though she ducked out of sight as quickly as she could, she knew that he had seen her.

The doorbell rang again.

* * *

"Aoyama-san!" Lettuce cried as she broke into a run, panting as she stopped in front of the shocked boy. 

"Mi…" he struggled to remember her name, finally smiling as he came to him, "Midorikawa-san. Ohayou."

"O-ohayou."

"Are you visiting Momomiya-san as well?"

"I… that is, she…"

The boy's smiled faded slightly as his confusion grew.

"She asked me to stay with her for a while," she began, deciding to go with the same lie she told her parents, "because she is ill."

Immediately, she realized that it had been the wrong thing to say.

"Ill? I thought I just saw her at the window. Is she all right?"

At this point, the other girl could hardly stop herself, and could only pray he did not decide to pay a visit to his supposedly ill girlfriend.

"She… is very ill. She cannot receive visitors. Bad flu—"

"Very ill?" The concern in his eyes was unbearable.

No!

But it was too late. Already, Lettuce knew how it would end. Already, the chill of inevitable catastrophe was crawling up her spine.

"Please, Midorikawa-san, may I see her? If she is so ill, perhaps I can…"

He trailed off, training that hopeful gaze on Lettuce, and she saw the force of his worry. She saw that she would not be able to fight it.

"I… she is too i—"

She winced at that moment, for Kisshu seemed to have begun coughing, loudly and painfully, in his sleep.

He had chosen the _worst_ possible time.

The sound of the hacking strengthened Aoyama's resolve.

Lettuce could say nothing to change his mind, and it was too late to pretend she did not have the keys. In her urgency, she had taken them out of her pocket and grasped them in her hand.

Said hand shaking, she opened the door. Aoyama nodded to her in thanks.

"I promise, I only want to see her for a little while. Just to see if she's all right."

He ended with a gentle smile, taking his coat off and throwing it to the ground before hurrying up the stairs. Lettuce remained, behind, totally frozen for a few seconds before her sense returned to her, and she broke into an uncertain run behind him.

"Aoyama-san, wa—"

She was cut off by a harsh gasp.

"Ichigo!"

Too late.

* * *

Aoyama stared at the girl before him, but his attention could hardly be called focused on her. It continuously shifted to the…_creature_… in her bed. 

_Isn't that…one of those aliens?_ he thought frantically, meeting her eyes in a desperate attempt to find some semblance of explanation.

The intensity of the fear in those pink orbs matched the intensity of his bewilderment.

"I-ichigo," he continued, so shocked that he failed to politely use her surname, "what—"

"I… I can explain, Aoyama-kun!" she started, wringing her hands in distress. Behind him, the boy was dimly aware of the other girl, Lettuce, but he did nothing to acknowledge her.

"Isn't he…isn't…?"

"Y-yes. Yes, Aoyama-kun, but—!"

Perhaps she would have explained it to him. She could have mollified him somehow.

Maybe.

If the noise hadn't caused Kisshu to open his eyes, sit up, and blink slowly at the odd scene taking place before him.

First, he was just confused. Then, his eyes landed on Aoyama, and his mind seemed to throw off the fatigue and discomfort of illness as a familiar rage took hold of him.

Aoyama.

_Precious_ Aoyama-kun.

Ichigo's loving, _deserving_ boyfriend…

His enemy. The bane of his very existence.

He was walking towards Ichigo now… how _dare_ he…

Ichigo took a deep breath as the dark-haired boy walked toward her, trying to steady herself, frantically thinking of an easy way to explain this. She might have succeeded, had she not suddenly felt a cool caress on her neck, another against her waist. She realized with breathtaking abruptness that there was an arm wrapped around her waist, and judging by the utter shock in Aoyama's brown eyes, that arm belonged to Kisshu.

The alien boy, in a fit of possessive anger, had used rage-fueled strength to teleport to the girl's side. Now he hovered behind her, one arm curling around her waist, the other over her shoulder and around her chest in a tight embrace.

"Talking to my girl, are we?" he sneered at Aoyama, who could only stammer in response.

"Y-y-your…"

"You heard me." Ichigo couldn't turn around, but she knew that Kisshu was wearing that devil's leer of his, watching Aoyama with a near-murderous glint in his golden eyes.

"Mine. I suppose koneko-chan here hasn't told you about—"

"No, no, Aoyama-kun, I'm not—"

She stopped, freezing as Kisshu's grip on her tightened. Her first thought was that he meant to hurt her, but as she stood there, staring at the stunned Aoyama, she realized that while his grip and his words seemed strong, Kisshu was trembling ever so slightly. She realized that the strength of his grip was due to desperation, desperation to…

He was only hanging onto the last few days, hanging onto those caresses and kind words…

Hanging onto the same things she wanted to hang onto…

Right? She did want it, didn't she? Yes, even in her fear, she knew that she wanted those experiences, those feelings… she wanted them to stay.

_I love you…_

It hadn't been a lie.

But… Aoyama-kun…

Suddenly, Aoyama's paralysis broke, and he rushed forward.

He rushed forward with a strangled yell, and Ichigo realized something with a jolt of sick horror.

He meant to harm Kisshu.

"Get off of her!" he cried, grabbing the alien from behind, grabbing his arms and tearing them off of Ichigo. In the process, he managed to hit the bandaged injury. The effect was instantaneous.

Kisshu cried out, crumpling to the ground under Aoyama, who was struggling to keep him down, to subdue him, to, in his mind, save Ichigo…

"No! Stop!"

The human boy froze, lifting his gaze to meet the girl's. She stood, eyes brimming with tears, shaking violently at the sight of the one-sided fight.

"Get off of him!"

The intensity of her scream was enough to force Aoyama back. As soon as he was clear of Kisshu, Ichigo was down on her knees beside the alien, arms wrapping around his shivering form as he began to cough horribly.

"Ichigo… why… I thought…"

"He's sick. He's here because he's sick, and I…"

Aoyama blinked rapidly in shock. Perhaps he was not the smartest boy, but he was not foolish. There was something in her voice, something in the way she grabbed a blanket off of the bed and draped it over the alien, wrapping it around his heaving shoulder as he struggled to breathe… something in her touch…

"You… you love him…"

"Love" was barely audible. It escaped his lips as a whisper.

"I…I…"

How could he say that? How could he even think that! It wasn't true, it couldn't be… She loved Aoyama! She had always loved Aoyama. Always…

Suddenly, images, feelings, emotions, all from the past few days, returned to her. Suddenly, she found herself remembering all that connected the alien boy to those days: Kisshu's trust, his desperation, his touch, his devotion, his strength, his vulnerability, his… his _love._

That undying, illogical, determined, foolish, gentle, vicious, pure, _amazing_ love that had started all of this.

That love that had touched her without her knowing it.

She remembered it all.

She remembered her confession.

It had not been a lie then. It wasn't a lie now. It _wasn't_.

Aoyama saw all of this. He could not identify the exact thoughts that ran through her mind, but he knew their nature, and he knew that he had to leave. Perhaps he should have fought her on the point, should have pleaded, begged, yelled, even. He should have shaken her, gotten some sense back into her.

He could not do any of it, not with that look in her eyes, that tenderness in her touch. He could only accept it all, no matter how confused, how disturbing, how strange it was. There was no doubt that he could do nothing against it. He _knew_ that somehow. _Knew_ it.

He bowed, murmured a soft good-bye to Ichigo, a stiffer one to the near-faint Lettuce, walked down the stairs, to the door, and left.

A weak Lettuce stumbled over to her friend and hugged her gently as she began to cry, softly mumbling to her something that even she herself could not understand.

She tried to pry Ichigo from Kisshu, tried to tell her to help him back into bed, but that failed, and it took a seven whole minutes for Ichigo to gather herself enough to half-lead, half-carry, the barely-conscious alien to the bed.

After that, she could only sink into the chair and cry.

* * *

AN: Okay, I think we reached something of a climax there. Hoe you enjoyed. Well, review, please! See you all next time! 


	16. Chapter 16

AN: Okay, I'm going to do this quickly, cuz I have work, eh… today. All right, so, news from over here:

Toni (Sugary Fluff) has watched the entirety of 39, and has joined our ranks as a K/I supporter! HUZZAH! Thus, I officially dedicate this chapter to her, cuz I _can_. Hehe. Yay Toni, you rock. That means that two of us now work with the alien couplings. Joy :P.

This chapter… should be okay, I hope. I'm not really accustomed to writing this sort of thing, so do tell me how it turns out. Though, Toni, I hope you enjoy it. Hehe…

Okay, now onwards to review responses:

BlackWingedGabriel: Naughty little girl, isn't she? And the speed of light's faster :P

Snowbluerat: Okay, this has been bothering me for a week. Exactly what was so disturbing? Not that I mind, of course, but I was just wondering. I didn't even put any gore in there or anything.. ah well :P

TigerLilly101: Hah! Another conversion! Welcome to the P/L ranks, my friend.

Dust-in: Heh, I dunno, the first thing that came to mind was Battleship. I used to _love_ that game too much, so maybe that's why. Besides, it's easy to cheat at :P. And as for P/L drabbles… yea, I'll be doing them. Eventually. Don't worry.

Kaoru…: Yes. It was long… very, very long.

Jenvaati: I know, Kisshu was the only reason I continued with TMM! Well, my particular reason was that he looked like a little manwhore, but to each her own :P. Thanks for the congrats, heh.

Toni and Sheebs: You guys don't need a review reply. You get my squealing in English :P

Everyone else: Thanks for the reviews! More than 100 now… that's really nice of you all!

Disclaimer: I don't own TMM. Aoyama would have been eaten by a goat if I did.

* * *

Lettuce was at a loss. 

The girl could only stand, rooted to the spot by the shock that remained after that awful confrontation, and wring her hands weakly.

_Ichigo…_

The pink-haired girl was still sitting in the desk chair, still crying, though her sobs had been reduced to faint whimpers as she stared blankly at the far wall.

Lettuce could not even imagine how she felt.

Aoyama…

He had _seen_.

He had seen, and he had… had left.

That thought brought a new shiver down the timid girl's spine.

It did not seem possible, that he would leave. It was so strange, seeing _him_ be the one to leave, seeing _Kisshu_ be the one with whom Ichigo remained, that it bordered on disturbing.

These thoughts were so intense, so chillingly numbing, that Lettuce could only vaguely stare at Ichigo as she suddenly rose from the chair, swaying almost dangerously, as if fighting to keep from fainting on the spot, and stumbled towards the door, moving faster and faster as she neared it so that once she was out of the room, she was moving at a near-run.

_I can't…can't stay…_

_Have to leave…_

_Aoyama-kun…maybe…_

_Someone…_

Her mind was paralyzed, thoughts broken and faint, as she began to stagger down the stairs.

Only the noise of her nearly falling managed to jolt Lettuce out of her horrorstruck trance. Eyes widening as Ichigo's intent dawned upon her, she whipped around, heading for the door.

Before she reached it, she stopped, hesitating suddenly before glancing back at Kisshu.

It occurred to her that out of the three of them, he needed the most care at the moment, but instead of crossing back to him, she reacted to one final, strangled thought.

_He needs _her.

Thus, not even really knowing whether the boy was conscious or not, she bolted out the door, haphazardly running through the hall and down the stairs.

She managed to grab Ichigo's arm just as the cat-girl's hand touched the doorknob.

The effect was so alarming, she almost let go.

"Get off of me!" Ichigo shrieked, voice a hysterical screech as she tried to wrench out of Lettuce's grasp.

The other girl did not know how she managed to find the strength to hold on, but she did.

Perhaps it was that single truth that rang in her mind: _He needs _her

It had to be Ichigo.

Ichigo and Kisshu.

_She_ had to be the one to go back upstairs and tend to the alien. That was all that made sense to Lettuce at that point. It was all that compelled her to raise her voice to a new volume that won against Ichigo's renewed sobs as she continued thrashing.

"Ichigo! Stop it!"

Just as Lettuce had been stunned by her outburst, Ichigo fell totally silent at hearing the strength in the porpoise-girl's tone. She looked up into Lettuce's face and dropped her eyes just as quickly, a sudden feeling of shame seizing her as her lip trembled.

"No!" she choked out, "I have to leave. I— I have to get out… get away—"

Lettuce softened, though her grip remained firm.

"Ichigo-san," she ventured, composure returning as Ichigo remained still, "I know you want to go after Aoyama-san—"

Ichigo gave a sort of shudder at those words, and Lettuce hesitated momentarily. When she continued, she did so by saying what she believed the other girl wanted to hear. She ignored the fact that it didn't really coincide with her own thoughts at the moment. All she cared for was calming Ichigo down enough to bring sense back to her.

"I know you want to find him, but Kisshu," she faltered on that name as Ichigo drew a harsh breath, "needs your help." On she went, in what she believed to be the most soothing tone she possessed.

"You have to go up there and help him, even if you don't l—"

"No!"

This time the words came out as a scream, and Lettuce did let go. Ichigo, however, did not run. She clenched her fists, gritting her teeth and staring first at the floor, then forced her gaze and all of its desperate frustration on Lettuce.

Her green-haired friend now knew that she should have followed her instincts concerning the alien and the Mew Mew. She knew that what she thought Ichigo wanted to hear after seeing Aoyama was not what she wanted to hear.

Not at all.

She also knew that what she had been seeing, what she had been secretly smiling at for the past day or so was not just her silly flight of fancy, or her imagination, or some bizarre result of her constant desire for peace.

The tears in Ichigo's eyes, those slowly trickling down her cheeks, the anxious tension in every muscle of her body; it all took Lettuce's observations and shoved them into the world of cold, hard fact.

All of that, however, could not do as good a job as the next phrase that left her lips:

"I _do_ love him!"

Both girls went silent, Ichigo actually slumping against the door, half-limp, as that statement finally achieved such an announcement.

There was no second-guessing anymore.

Now, Ichigo could no longer cautiously whisper it to herself in the back of her mind. She couldn't leave it as a murmured statement to a sleeping alien, unheard by anyone else, denied a full guarantee on truth. She couldn't pretend it never happened.

She couldn't run back to Aoyama and tell him that he had been wrong.

The words had just been screamed out with the full force of her will, and there was no taking them back after that.

Her first thought about it?

She didn't care.

As she breathed slowly, deeply, trying to calm herself down, she realized that she did not care if Lettuce had just heard.

She didn't think she'd have cared if _Shirogane_ had heard.

Damn it.

It was _true_.

Ichigo giggled weakly, one fingernail softly clicking against the door as she clenched her fists again, closing her eyes and allowing that affirmation to flow through her, battling the uncertainty born of Aoyama's visit.

"I do."

Lettuce allowed her arms to drop to her sides.

"But…" Ichigo whispered, eyes trained on the floor, "I still… I've always…"

"Ichigo."

The girl looked up.

"Y-you knew, didn't you? You saw."

"I…I didn't want to…" Lettuce trailed off, wringing her hands lightly as Ichigo gave a sad sort of chuckle.

"But you knew… I knew, even if I didn't say it… but I still… I love them _both_. How—"

She broke off, voice trembling with the threat of tears. Again, she was near hysterics, and again, her hand traveled to the doorknob. Just as before, Lettuce stopped her. This time, however, her voice was the exact opposite of what had disarmed Ichigo before. Now, the cat-girl pulled her hand away at the sound of calm, gentle soothing.

"You cannot dwell on that yet."

That stopped her from touching the handle.

"_He_ needs you now."

That turned her around, calling a smile of gratitude to her lips.

Lettuce gave her own shy smile back.

"You're right."

Slowly, they made their way back upstairs.

* * *

Kisshu had been dimly aware of the two girls leaving the room. 

Dimly, because after Aoyama had hit his wound, pain had spread across his shoulder and chest, a fiery agony that took all his strength away.

_Aoyama…_

_That…_

_That _bastard!

The fact that it was the only thought his exhausted mind could articulate only proved his deep hatred for the human boy.

He had taken Ichigo away.

_Again_.

Again, when it had been going so _well_.

Kisshu had thought…

…but he felt so _stupid_ for it now.

That was the second idea that managed to surface through the pain.

He had been so hopeful, so very hopeful, that somehow, through this terrible situation he had landed himself in, she'd see him for the devoted boy he was. He had thought that she'd see what he had done, why he had come to her, how much he needed her…

The boy might have cried, had his fatigue not been so profound. As it was, he could only breathe out in a soft, shaking sigh.

_Stupid… stupid, stupid…heh…_

What a fool he had been, to think that anything would have changed…

Of course she had gone after Aoyama. What girl wouldn't have? How could any girl with even the smallest speck of intelligence not pursue that boy? He was perfect.

So goddamned _perfect_.

Kisshu wanted to laugh, sad as that was.

It was _funny_, he suddenly realized in a delirious jolt of despair, that he had tried to win her from that boy. There had been no chance, really. He remembered Pai telling him how illogical it all was.

_He was right…_

Why would Ichigo even consider choosing him over the utter perfection that was Aoyama? What could have ever persuaded her to accept an alien who was trying to destroy her world over a simple, kind, loving human boy who would do anything for her?

There was no reason.

None at all…

Except…

_I love her_.

Damn… after all of it, he still _loved_ her.

Why couldn't she see that?

Why couldn't she love him back?

Why… why did she leave him, after…

….damn it, he had been so _sure_…

Had he been foolish, naive, to think those touches sincere, to think them…loving?

A weak, mirthless chuckle escaped his throat. Apparently, he had been.

Yes, no matter how much hope he had felt, no matter how the girl had seemed to encourage him, he had been wrong.

He must have been; Ichigo was gone, wasn't she?

But then… why did she protect him? Why did she drive Aoyama away?

_No…no, she didn't. He must have thought…heh, he must have thought what I thought…and she went to fix it. She's bringing him back…_

That must have been it. Right.

Kisshu closed his eyes, partially in his utter desolation, partially because the entire matter had robbed him of nearly all energy.

…_now…now what…?_

He wished he could get up. Get up, and get out. What was the sense in staying?

The boy didn't want to see her again; not after that. He did not want to face that disappointment in the most direct way possible. He did not want to see her eyes, probably filled with a vehement fury for the doubt this must have caused Aoyama.

He took a deep, noisy breath, the closest to a sob he could manage.

Why had he been so _sure_?

Was this one of the universe's cruel jokes, reserved just for him?

Yes.

That had to be it.

And now he was doomed to wait until that girl came back to only confirm how idiotic he had been.

_Heh… there goes proving Pai wrong…_

It brought a wry, sick sort of smile to his pale face as he gathered the strength to prop himself up on his elbows, choking in silent agony as the movement only aggravated the gash Aoyama had knocked against.

_Maybe… maybe if I really try… I can at least teleport out of this room before she comes back…maybe…before… with him…_

Through a minute of struggle, he managed to sit up against the headboard, panting heavily, slowly trying to ignore the memories of how wonderful he had felt the last time he had been sitting like this, drowsing against—

_Stop it, baka…have to get out…_

He tried, but his limbs were shaking too badly.

Kisshu had gotten no further when the door slowly swung open.

* * *

Lettuce remained outside at Ichigo's whispered request, watching anxiously as the cat-girl re-entered the room. 

The first thing the girl noticed as she silently closed the door behind her was that the alien was sitting up, and that brought a weak, relieved smile to her face. She was about to speak, say his name, when she noticed that his arms were shaking violently with the effort of remaining in that position. Her lips parted, and the girl was about to abandon saying his name in favor of telling him to lie back down before he harmed himself further, but her observations didn't end there.

She suddenly knew, just by glancing at his eyes, that he wasn't just sitting up for the sake of it. She recognized the same emotion in his eyes that had been coursing through her just a few minutes ago.

He meant to run.

The smile vanished from her face; her countenance adopted the blankness of shock.

"Ki—"

"H-hey, koneko-chan," he interrupted, voice trembling slightly under the strain of exhaustion, but lips pulling back into one of his trademark smirks, and he even tried to give her his customary chuckle, no matter how much it must have hurt his throat.

"Where's…" he hesitated here, just for a moment, and Ichigo _knew_, even in her frozen bewilderment, that his grin grew wider only to hide the pain that they name caused him, a pain greater than that of the fever and the wound combined. "Where's Aoyama?"

She said nothing, only stared, hands totally limp at her sides. That confused him for a moment; she wasn't reacting quite how he had expected. She had just gone after Aoyama, hadn't she?

Maybe… maybe…

No. No, that was ridiculous.

She had gone after him, of course. Yes. She _must_ have just gone after him.

"Thought I'd get out of here," he continued, somehow swinging his legs over the side of the bed, finding energy from goodness knew where. Probably from desperation to escape her eyes and what he thought lay behind them.

"Thanks for the help and all, but I should be getting back, don't you think? Time for me to find some more Mew Aqua, wreak some more havoc… you know. All that fun stuff."

Ichigo didn't know what sickened her more: the fact that he was pushing his body as he was, or the fact that he thought…

He thought…

He…

"Baka."

At first, Kisshu had no reaction to the word, for she had whispered it so softly, she herself had barely known it had escaped her lips. He heard absolutely nothing and continued to push himself up, getting ready to stand. The boy was only beginning to put weight back on his feet when Ichigo's voice finally gathered enough power to be audible.

"Baka, baka, baka…"

First whispered, then murmured, the word slowly fell into rhythm with Ichigo's steps as she crossed the room. Still, Kisshu ignored it.

It didn't work with the situation he had just mentally set up, so he ignored it.

Not ignoring it meant…

He knew that what it meant had to be too good to be true, so he ignored the desperate note in her tone, ignored the weakness in her gait as she approached him.

The girl stopped in front of the alien, eyes boring into his as he slowly rose before her, legs trembling ever so slightly, smirk still firmly in place as he prepared to move past her.

He never managed to move an inch.

"_Baka_!"

She slapped him.

It wasn't a hard slap. She didn't mean to hurt him.

That was _beyond_ the last thing she wanted to do. The very idea wasn't even in her head, but had it been, it would have made her nauseous.

The slap was only a means of driving any notion of his leaving from his mind, and it did that beautifully. So deeply stunned was Kisshu, that his knees gave out, and he sank to the floor, barely steadying himself with one hand, his other gingerly touching his stinging cheek.

His mind went numb; totally, absolutely numb. It offered him nothing, not the slightest response to the girl, who silently fell to her own knees before him. Slowly, barely recovering from his shock, the alien realized that she was shaking, just as badly as he was. As she lifted her eyes to his, he saw that she was smiling.

It wasn't the same smirk he had worn in a desperate attempt to prove to both of them that he accepted what he saw as the end. No, it lacked that anxious nonchalance; it lacked that frantically-hidden tinge of despair.

And her eyes…

He couldn't tell.

Kisshu was so frozen by sheer confusion that he just couldn't tell. He could only let his hand fall down into his lap as his gaze stayed captured within hers. Gradually, her eyes began to fill with new tears; her lips trembled even while the smile remained.

The alien wished he had the strength to get up. All he could see was the beginning of one thing he had come to hate ever since coming to the girl.

He thought Ichigo was about to cry.

The boy did the only thing he could do: he tried to turn his head away. Actually, it served two purposes.

It was an attempt to avoid her tears, and one to hide the anguish raging within him.

Ichigo saw him try. She saw him break eye contact, saw him begin to turn, and she hurried to speak, knowing she had to erase that heavy sadness in his face. Just as quickly, she realized that words would do her no good.

Words were useless now. He had fallen beyond their reach.

Fallen, because of her. Because of her recklessness. Because of her lack of _sense_, her flightiness, her rashness.

She had to fix this. _Had_ to, and she knew words could not undo that sadness he was trying to conceal underneath bravado.

As a solitary tear trickled down her cheek, she knew that there was a way to banish those ideas of his from his mind. There was a way to undo the damage her running way had done.

The most wonderful thing about it, the most liberating, soothing, endearing thing about it, was that she did not hesitate to do it.

Not even once.

She had no qualms about reaching out and turning his face back towards her, touching her soft hand to his flushed cheek, no qualms as she felt him lean into that hand ever so slightly, no doubt reveling in its touch even while enduring those crushing assumptions about her choice.

Nothing stopped her from moving closer to him, listening to his breath, still weak, but growing ever clearer, ever surer, as she cupped his other cheek with her other hand, lightly stroking the spot she had slapped in silent, wordless apology.

All the while, her eyes remained on his, watching the light dance in his golden irises, willing the shame and doubt and frustration from their depths as she felt the first feathery wisps of his bangs tickle her forehead. Still she leaned closer, forever nearer, until she no longer felt strands of soft green hair, but the warmth of his forehead against hers.

For a few moments they remained like this, seemingly frozen in time, Ichigo gently pushing her awareness to this sensation, this pleasant tingle of affection that arose from the feel of his skin, too-warm and damp with the sweat of fever, but still undeniably smooth, soft, so _right_ against her own. She could hear his breath quicken as he seemed to realize what she was doing. A new light, one so much brighter and stronger than the dull sheen of despair, lit his eyes.

Kisshu was…

He could only remain lost in her gentle, soothing gaze, lost in the dizzying sense of her eyes so close to his, her hair mingling with his, her forehead a soft pressure against his, her lips…

In the second it took for his heart to skip a beat at how small the gap between their lips was, Ichigo closed it.

In a single instant, her lips pressed tenderly against his, and their eyes closed as both unconsciously leaned into their first true kiss.

If the previous moments had seemed drawn out, this lasted a blessed eternity.

When the girl finally broke off, taking a shuddering breath as she fought to keep a sudden sense of giddiness from overwhelming her, she glanced back up into Kisshu's eyes, and was instantly captured.

No longer were they dulled by bewilderment or disappointment.

As soon as her lips had touched his, all of that had vanished, and as she looked into his eyes now, she was stunned by their intensity.

Anything she might have been planning to say died in her throat when she saw the love those terrible feelings of doubt had left in their wake.

Love… such a sincere, _passionate_ love…

The girl was so absorbed, she could not deny the boy another, and as he took her face in his hands, delicately running his long nails against her temples, as their lips met again in a gentle pressure that left her utterly speechless, she could find only one thought occupying her mind:

_This feels wonderful._

It was simple, but it was all she knew that could articulate her feelings as they separated again.

It was so wonderful, that it made her cry.

Her gaze never leaving his face, she began to cry silently, tears slowly trickling down her face and falling into her lap.

Kisshu watched passively at first, mind still belonging to the realm of a few seconds ago, but he soon realized that she was doing the one thing he hated watching her do, and the girl quickly found him trying to wipe away her tears with a tender hand.

It only made her cry harder, soft whimpers escaping her as her shoulders began to quiver.

A moment later, she found herself wrapped in the boy's embrace, resting against the bare skin of his chest, and she smiled through her tears because she realized how undeniably _good_ it felt, resting against Kisshu, breathing in his alien, yet warm comforting scent, feeling his hands, often so quick and cruel in battle, now compassionate and firm against her back.

"I… guess I was wrong then, ne?" It was really more statement than question, and murmured in such a soft voice that Ichigo had to look up and confirm that it was indeed the alien who was speaking to her. Her smile only strengthened as she met his eyes again.

"Yeah, I'd say you were."

A comfortable silence reigned until Ichigo swallowed quietly, smile faltering as a soft humiliation entered her gaze.

"Kisshu… I'm sorry, for…"

"Honestly, koneko-chan, I think you've made up for it," he replied immediately, nuzzling her hair and making her giggle.

As she did so, her eyes landed on his bandage, and she placed a light hand on his chest.

"Does that still hurt?"

Kisshu was momentarily taken aback by the question, what with its apparent randomness, but ended up rather relieved she had mentioned it. It _did_ still hurt, and he winced, reminded of its presence.

"A bit."

Ichigo bit her lip as she looked at it, not only because of the fact that it still caused him pain, but also because it had just managed to remind her of its creator. This time, however, the thought of him was not ushered into a dark corner of her mind and ordered to wait. Now she could do little to banish it; it was too late.

This moment and the confrontation were forever intertwined in her memory; the time to deal was…

"Ichigo?"

She looked up, startled, to meet Kisshu's gaze, immediately softening at the concern it conveyed. Suddenly, it darkened, and the boy's tone grew a mite tenser.

"Is it—?"

A shake of her head cut him off; her reassuring smile kept him silent.

"It doesn't matter now," she answered, and realized that it _didn't_. She could think that, could say it out loud, and suffer only the smallest twinge of uncertainty. That twinge would have to be dealt with, but she didn't need to do it now. Later, she would have to talk to Lettuce, talk to… talk to Aoyama…

God, she'd still have to talk to Aoyama.

Goodness knew what _that_ would bring.

No one could know… yet as she gazed at her alien charge, she saw that it really didn't matter at the moment. Just as Lettuce had said, there were more important things to worry about…

"Do you think we could go and change the bandage now?" She meant, of course, that she preferred to wash his wound out well in the bathroom.

The alien gave her a wry smirk.

"I don't think I could walk if my life depended on it."

For some odd reason, that coaxed another giggle from Ichigo, but she sobered up quickly, gently wrapping one of her arms around the alien's waist and slowly helping him up. He leaned on her heavily until he was able to gingerly lie back down, and Ichigo, after seeing that he was lying comfortably, drew the covers up over him.

Allowed to lie down, the boy looked incredibly sleepy when compared to how alert he had been just moments before, and Ichigo realized that had had probably been fighting medicine-induced drowsiness during both Aoyama's visit and their… interaction of a few moments ago. The thought compelled her to give him one last tender caress on his cheek before straightening back up.

"Then… I guess I'll wake you up later?"

"Mmm…"

Ichigo hid a smile at how quickly his fatigue seemed to be building.

"Ne, Ichigo?"

"Hai?"

"Could you stay for a bit…?"

Again, that tender little smile. "Sure."

With that, Kisshu felt calm enough to fall asleep, and Ichigo sat down in her desk chair, breathing out in a rather loud sigh.

It had been, what, an hour?

How the _hell_ had things gotten so complicated within an _hour_?

And what would she do about it?

Oh, it had been so simple when it had just been Aoyama… sweet, loving, loyal Aoyama…

But then… she smiled slightly… these last few minutes hadn't been bad at all.

How to reconcile them? How could she come to terms with two conflicting paths?

She didn't know. She didn't know, but she knew that she had just horribly complicated it for herself.

Somehow, though, it didn't make her cry now.

That kiss… that kiss….

It had confirmed the presence of two loves. Aoyama had not been wrong. But then, Kisshu had not been wrong in thinking she loved Aoyama, either.

Ichigo bit her lip. Well, there was no use in trying to figure it out now.

She smiled weakly, looking over at the now-slumbering Kisshu. No, no sense in it now.

There was no ruining this sense of safety and comfort so soon after it had been attained. For now… she'd just follow these new feelings for the alien boy and…

No!

What was she thinking?

She was with Aoyama.

…somehow, that statement did not ring as strongly as it once had…

It had all felt so _nice_, with Kisshu…

And she had known, since he had come to her, that something was about to change…

With another sigh, she got up, gently nipping her finger.

Nothing to do about it now, was there? No. But she'd have to talk to Lettuce later. That was for sure. Maybe after Kisshu received his next dose, after they cleaned his wound again and gave him something else to eat… Yes. This could wait until then.

_Aoyama… wait, for a bit…_

She knew, suddenly, that she couldn't end that thought with a reassuring affirmation of her love. That… that worried her.

And yet…

She shook her head. If she didn't stop, she might bring herself back to awful thoughts and tears, and a repeat performance of her escape attempt was not needed.

Later, she'd figure it out, ask Lettuce, and…

In an instant, her eyes widened.

_Lettuce!_

The cat-girl rushed to the door, pushed it open, only to reveal a rather stunned looking Lettuce standing in the hallway. Surprisingly, it was the green-haired girl who found her voice first.

"So… how did it go?"

"Eh…" Ichigo smiled nervously, "he's, uh, back in bed…"

Lettuce could only give a nod before a smile lifted her lips.

"Ichigo-san…"

"Y-yeah?"

"Does… does this mean you're staying with him?"

Aoyama's face flashed in her mind, and for a second, Ichigo faltered. Then, just as abruptly, Kisshu's face followed it, and she regained her smile.

"Yeah."

For now, at least.

And maybe…

* * *

AN: Ahem… yeah. Wow, I'm like… killing Ichigo's tiny brain. Fun stuff :P. Review, please. See you all in chap 17. 

Oh! BTW, I know I'm ignoring the whole Ichigo-turns-cat thing. I'm aware of it, and truthfully, I always thought it was cute, but rather useless in terms of the show as a whole. That, and she slept with Aoyama while in that form. Thus, it's tainted :P. So, don't ask about it, I did it on purpose, because it's really just more convenient that way… and Ichigo + Aoyama + Bed equals Apocalypse. Heh. Yea, that's the one bit of anime/manga realism I'm cutting out. Sorry to anyone who likes that part, but it's really such a nuisance xx. So, there ya go. Later!


	17. Chapter 17

Okay. First, I'm sorry for two flaming weeks. _That_ was morbidly too long. I don't really have an excuse… can't say it's because I have a life, cuz I really don't :P. I guess it was a combination of general laziness (huzzah!), my brother getting to the comp before I did, and my parents currently renovating the living room, smacking the floor with hammers all day, and that floor being right above me and the comp in the basement. Yea. Not fun :P.

The good news: This is a long chapter. When I say long, I mean _long_. It's longer than 15, and that sucker was long. So, at least I didn't come back empty handed.

Now, since I haven't updated in _forever_, let's reply to reviews. Hehe.. this is gonna take a while.

AnimeKittyCafe: OMG, my _friend_. I _love_ you! You actually reviewed every. single. chapter. Are you _insane_? I glomp thee with my _soul_. Jeez, I wish I could answer all your comments here, but I have the feeling the rest of the reviewers might eat me… eventually, I'm gonna reply to every single one by that happy little reply click thing. Oh yes, I will. You are like, my hero :P.

Snowbluerat: Yesss… her tiny little brain :P. Here's the next chap! Oh, and I still can't believe I somewhat gave you nightmares… though if it makes you feel better, I had to pause while writing that beating-up scene. It was hard ;;

Yuko: Nya! French person! With a grasp of English grammar! I salute thee. I take French in school… and kinda suck at it :P. And no, I don't have to sleep. That's a myth :P. Hehe. And yes, Aoyama is bad. Very, very bad. Like those box jellyfish that kill with one sting.

TigerLilly101: Oh, he has it backwards. Yes, he does. And he's so cute :huggle: Your compliments make me smile; thanks! And yea… well, now there's been a slew of varied fics, but when you reviewed, I remember there _were_ many R/I. I have no clue why… it was weird.

BlackWingedGabriel: Jeez… I feel bad for not updating :P. Nya.. more like a quarter of a pea… or the zygote of the male and female gamete of the plant just forming the pea… ooh… bio-ness. Hehe… midterm coming up. Can't help it :P.

Dust-in: There's P/L in this chapter, my friend. Have your fun! Heh, you and Toni both.

Heth: Ooh… is that really how it is in the manga? I only have three volumes, 5, 6, and 7, and I don't really read manga much at all (I prefer watching anime). Huh. That's a useful bit of info. Thanks! Oh, and I _know_ I drag things out. Abominably. I enjoy it :P. Really, it's just something I do for my own pleasure. I'm too descriptive and meticulous with such things for my own good. Ah well. Thanks for the heads-up, anyway!

Sakura Makiya101: Hehe… SLTC sent you? Hehe… that amuses me :P. Glad you enjoyed the story. Do you mean you actually read the whole thing in one sitting? I'm impressed… and slightly disturbed :P. Hope you enjoy the rest!

Anyone else: Thanks a lot for the reviews! You're all so nice!

Okay, before we get on with the tale, I need to inform everyone that I'm trying to figure out how to end this, and I'm actually thinking of… well… sorta making this the K/I get-together fic, and then continuing the series, sort of, (since this starts from right after ep 39), by maybe writing a sequel. There, I could take care of how the relationship would go afterwards, how the other Mews would fully take it (though they'll prolly make an appearance in this fic, anyway), and so on. If I did that, I'd end up writing the defeat of Deep Blue and whatnot.

Anyways, that's what I'm thinking about doing. It's not set or final, but tell me what you think, if you feel like it :P

Now, onwards!

Disclaimer: I do not own Tokyo Mew Mew. I wish I did. I really, really do, but, unfortunately, I don't, so we have to deal with things like Ichigo screaming "Aoyama-kun" fifty times per ep :P Poor us…

* * *

"Hey, Pai?" 

The only answer was silence, broken occasionally by the soft click of fingers tapping keyboard buttons.

"Um, Pai…"

Still no reaction.

"Oi! _Pai!_"

"_What_, Taruto?"

"You kinda put in those last ten lines all wrong…"

Pai blinked in mild surprise, taking a moment to look up at the translucent screen and realize that he had, indeed, entered the last block of research equations incorrectly. He blinked again, giving a soft grunt before pressing another button and watching the symbols vanish. Staring rather blankly at the computer screen, he let out a long, silent breath.

It wasn't like him, naturally, to do something as absentminded as enter a full ten lines of code without noticing they were the _wrong_ ten lines.

It certainly wasn't like him to need Taruto to break him out of a silly trance he shouldn't have been in.

And it sure as _hell_ wasn't like him to give up on research when it was only midday.

That unsettling thought the last in his mind, he switched the computer off, then turned to face an anxious-looking Taruto.

"Don't you have something to do?" he asked the younger alien, not in an annoyed tone, but in a bland voice laced with a deep fatigue.

As if echoing his elder friend, Taruto squirmed uncomfortably.

The truth was, neither had been acting particularly normal since Pai's meeting with Lettuce. As soon as the ordeal had passed, Pai had attempted to get back to work as normal, but he had found it increasingly difficult as Taruto's initial curiosity over the matter gave way to a depression fostered by their companion's absence. At first, the younger had complained, but after a while, his whining died down to occasional remarks that gradually lost their strength until he lapsed into a stiff sort of silence.

At that point, Pai's relief at having given the green-haired Mew some medication ran out, and he found that his normal duties became more chore-like than ever; this equation error was only one of a number of careless mistakes he had been making in his work.

He inwardly sighed.

And it had only been a day.

Maybe a little over a day.

Still, it was no where _near_ long enough to start getting worried _again_. He had just handed over the medicine a day ago… one day… he had done all he could, hadn't he? Of course he had. It wasn't as if he could have stayed and watched his comrade for any extended period of time. He had observed all he could, and he had had to leave. If he hadn't, Deep Blue may have suspected something.

Yet now, looking at the pleading expression in Taruto's eyes, Pai couldn't help but feel his logic waver.

His logic had seemed bizarrely weak ever since he had tossed the girl that vial.

He should have been able to put that action aside, along with his worry, but it hadn't happened. Convincing himself of Kisshu's increased probability for recovery was easier said than done.

Reluctant as he was to admit it, he cared for his younger comrades. They were, after all, all he had on this mission, and no matter how focused he was on his goals, no matter how loyal he remained to Deep Blue and how objective he tried to be, he couldn't deny the fact that he had grown to care for them. It was unfortunate in light of the mission, but it was true.

Somewhere in his mind, he had grown to connect his being the eldest and most mature with a need to protect the other two. Pai was not sure when it had happened, but he knew it had when crushing despair hit him after Kisshu appeared lost. A quick affirmation had come from his relief at having somewhat redeemed himself by giving Lettuce the vial.

Now, this knowledge was only emphasized by his growing unease.

Sure, he had given the other boy the medicine he needed, but it didn't seem _enough_.

Every time he tried to ignore it, he could only think of the last image he had of Kisshu, breathing painfully, barely able to sleep in his suffering, clearly clinging on to life with a weakening grasp.

He _knew_ the medicine should have fixed that, _must_ have fixed it, but it wasn't enough.

He wanted to see him again, plain and simple. That protective instinct just wouldn't leave him alone.

Taruto knew it, too, though his feelings probably gravitated more towards missing an older brother than worrying in a protective manner.

Either way, neither alien had been able to spend the last day in the relief that should have been theirs.

Holding Taruto's gaze, Pai shook his head in answer to the question he knew was coming.

"No, Taruto."

"But—!"

Another shake, and the brunette fell silent.

In spite of his apparent victory, Pai unconsciously clenched his fists.

No matter how many times he said it, he knew he would not be able to totally convince Taruto of any safety for their ailing friend.

He also knew now, as a wave of anxiety rose up within him, that he would not be able to convince himself.

But he _needed_ to convince himself! He needed to stop this, to get back into his normal routine.

If he didn't, Deep Blue could find out, and if Deep Blue found out…

There had to be a way, a simple way to just _check_ on the boy, but Pai couldn't think of one. He couldn't simply teleport back to Ichigo's house and engage in some more silent spying; if his master somehow noticed, it would be the end of everything. Having to admit to watching Kisshu after his banishment was bad enough, but if Deep Blue found out who was taking care of him…

There had already been a risk involved in speaking to and leaving with Lettuce. That risk only deepened with this heavy depression that had been around for the past day. Pai couldn't do anything that would increase the chances of Deep Blue questioning them. Taruto, for one, would probably easily give in, seeing how strongly tied to Kisshu he seemed.

Pai… Pai himself wasn't sure how well he could maintain his front if questioned.

There was just too much _worry_, too much _doubt_, too much _unease_…

There had to be a way to ease it, but the only thing the alien could think of as he walked past the melancholy Taruto, preparing to teleport to his room to try to get some rest, was going back to the house.

It was too risky.

He couldn't… damn it, he just couldn't… if only he could find…

If only someone could _help_ them…

He froze in mid-step, astonished at his own apparent idiocy.

_Of course_.

She had done it once. Perhaps… perhaps she could ease their anxiety once more?

But then, even if she could, how could he be sure he would find _her_ and not one of the others?

He couldn't be sure. He could only hope.

It was really the only choice.

Despite the uncertainty involved, he allowed himself a slight smirk.

"Stay here, Taruto."

The younger boy's expression switched from deep sadness to blank confusion. He blinked. "Why? Where are you going?"

"We're rather due for an attack, don't you think?"

"An attack? _Now?_ Are you nu—"

He stopped, realization dawning on his face. He had always been rather quick on the uptake, even if he was childish.

"Pai, can't I come? Please?" Yes, there was the grating whine, right on cue.

The older alien shook his head in reply, but gave Taruto a faint smile anyway.

"I will give you a full report when I return."

Taruto pouted as Pai teleported out of the dimension, leaving him alone. As seconds passed, however, that pout softened into a tentative sort of hope as he grumbled into the empty air.

"Fine… but…but it had better be a _good_ report…"

* * *

Ichigo sat eating in silence. 

Lettuce did as well, only half-focusing on the vegetable stir-fry she had made to serve as the girls' dinner.

Neither spoke, but each knew what the other was thinking about.

In actuality, there was only one thing _to_ think about, and both girls were absorbed in it.

_I…I kissed him…_

Twice.

She had kissed him not once, but _twice_.

Ichigo's fingers tensed around her chopsticks as that idea sank in _again_, for what seemed the millionth time since she had felt those lips brush hers.

They had kissed… and she was still _alive_.

Had she not been so deep in thought, she might have laughed at how silly that sounded.

Still, it was true.

She had rejected the alien boy so many times, pushed him away so often, rejected his kisses with such conviction, that the thought of still being _normal_ after having given in was somewhat shocking.

Then again, what had she been expecting?

Had she been waiting for some sort of apocalypse because she had turned a full one-eighty and… and…

Well, not apocalypse, exactly.

Regardless, she had kissed him, and she did not feel tainted by the experience. Perhaps that's what she had been expecting: some sort of feeling of degradation, despair, lowliness after giving in to her enemy.

Except that she couldn't bring herself to call him an enemy anymore.

No matter how hard she tried, that word just didn't fit alongside Kisshu. It couldn't, not after everything that had happened… not after that touch, that voice, those eyes…

And yet…

_Oh, Aoyama-kun…_

Ichigo gripped her chopsticks so hard, she lost her fingering. They clattered against the tabletop, and Lettuce looked up at her friend, startled.

_Why does this have to be so _hard?

"Ichigo-san."

The cat-girl looked up into Lettuce's sympathetic gaze.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

She blinked, squirming slightly in her seat.

"I…"

Lettuce was careful not to press; she knew better. She could only guess at what Ichigo was going through, having never gone through such a thing herself, but she was prone to some of the doubts the other girl must have been having.

The entire issue involving Kisshu's status (_no, former_, she thought) as an enemy was certainly something to be looked at. His status, and Taruto's. And Pai's…

How in the world was everything supposed to go back to _normal_ after something like this? How could they just allow Kisshu to heal and leave one day and then fight him the next? _She_ wouldn't be able to do it. Lettuce knew that.

Would Ichigo?

As her friend struggled to formulate a response, Lettuce bit her lip in silent thought.

Only a few days ago, she would have bet her life on Ichigo fighting Kisshu with everything she had until death, but after just her day here…

After knowing that the two had kissed, and that it had not been an accident…

That it had been _Ichigo's_ decision, and not one of Kisshu's overzealous actions…

That alone was enough to confuse and terrify anybody, and Ichigo still had _Aoyama_ to worry about. Lettuce inwardly cringed at the name. That boy… it had been so simple when Ichigo had loved him and only him. And she really _did_ love him. That was undeniably apparent in everything she did and said.

Up until all of this, Lettuce had firmly believed that that love would remain the strongest for as long as the couple was living, but _now…_

Ichigo loved another. She had said so. She had proven so.

And that other was Kisshu.

It was insanely complicated, and Lettuce could not blame Ichigo for lapsing into silence, giving up on expressing her feelings.

Besides, what was there to talk about?

_I love… I love them both…_

That was it. She loved them _both_.

She loved Aoyama as she always had.

But now, after seeing Kisshu out of battle, away from his own frustration, vulnerable in a way she had not thought possible, she felt that new love.

Now, after seeing that he meant what he had always said, seeing that Kisshu was not just the annoying, dangerous alien bent on destroying her world, seeing that he had a mind and a heart and a soul… a soul he had already devoted to her, even while it resulted in so much pain for him…

How could she not return the love?

She was not heartless.

Perhaps before, she had just been blind.

_Heh…_

In one way, she missed that ignorance. She missed the simplicity of it.

In another… she wouldn't trade her new feelings for anything.

In spite of the trouble they had caused, in spite of the trouble they _would_ cause, she couldn't imagine forfeiting them, not after what she had seen.

Hell, there was still so much _to_ see, so much she didn't know.

How could she ignore that?

If only it wasn't all so catastrophic!

"Ichigo."

Again, her attention went to Lettuce, who accepted it with as comforting a smile as she could muster.

"Don't worry so much about it now. Everything will turn out fine."

Those two sentences sounded so calm, so sensible, that despite herself, Ichigo burst out laughing.

"Yeah," she chuckled, a sudden smile lighting up her face, "it's too early to worry now, isn't it?"

No… no, no, no…it wasn't too early…with all that had happened…_Aoyama_…

Her smile faded as abruptly as it had appeared, and Lettuce looked down into her lap, as if gathering her own thoughts, before looking back up at Ichigo.

"It will be."

For some reason, those three words startled the cat-girl, maybe because they were so confident.

That strange confidence called a smaller, discreet smile to her face, and she nodded, seeming ashamed of her outburst.

Just then, Lettuce's cell phone rang. Whatever tension remained between the girls disappeared as Lettuce answered. Within a few seconds, however, Ichigo found herself growing oddly uneasy as Lettuce's voice grew shakier, her eyes widening slightly. Finally, she said the name of the caller in her conversation, and Ichigo stiffened.

"Shirogane-san, are you sure? Yes, I know the place, but…yes, you're certain? Well…ano…no, it's just that I…y-you're sending EVERYONE!" Ichigo jumped as Lettuce's trembling voice turned into a forceful yell.

"I…no, n-nothing's wrong, I just…" the porpoise-girl trailed off, a chilling hopelessness entering her blue eyes as her grip on the phone tightened.

Suddenly, she seemed to get an idea. What that idea was, Ichigo could not guess, but it lent Lettuce some new confidence, and her voice strengthened as she spoke back to Ryou.

"Shirogane-san, do you… that is, c-could I take this alone?" she began, faltering at first, but gaining stability as she continued, "Yes, I know what' I'm asking. Why? Well… Ichigo-san is ill… yes, she's all right. I'm at her house, and since it's closer from here, I thought that it would be best if I just went alone…I know we're a team, but I… please, Shirogane-san…I…" Ichigo could tell that the blonde was giving her a lot of resistance, and wished she could step into yell something at the Mew Project's leader, but knew that that would conflict with the lie Lettuce had just told.

She fidgeted, growing ever more anxious at her inability to help Lettuce, when the other girl seemed t pull out a trump card of sorts.

"It would mean so much to me, Shirogane-san, just to do this once, alone... I know I could…" from the silence from the other end, Ichigo could tell that this surprised Ryou as much as it did her. After a few moments of staring at Lettuce in bemusement, she had to refocus on the conversation, and couldn't help grinning when she found that it had turned.

"Thank you, Shirogane-san. I'll call for help if I must… really… yes, I'll report back… thank you. Good-bye!"

Lettuce turned off the phone, only to be bombarded by questions from her friend.

"Well, what did he want? And what do you mean, it'll mean a lot to you? And what will—?" Ichigo shot off a few more questions before calming down enough to allow Lettuce to speak.

"One of the other aliens is attacking, just a few blocks from here."

Ichigo blinked in new surprise. "Attacking… but…" Suddenly, that word "enemy" sprang up again. Still, it seemed wrong, even though… but why _now_…?

Lettuce shook her head, apparently as confused as Ichigo. "I don't know, but I asked Shirogane-san to let me handle it alone. I… I don't know what it means, Ichigo, but I think given the situation, I should go see myself." She ended in a tone brimming with determination, and Ichigo had to smile wider, nodding in agreement.

"So I guess that means you're going?"

"Yes. I'll be back as soon as I can. Shirogane-san made me promise to contact another Mew Mew if anything happened, so please keep your pendant close."

"Okay, sure." Ichigo didn't know why, but she was oddly calm about this. Something about it didn't feel quite like a real battle, and while neither girl was particularly happy about it, both knew that somehow, this wouldn't quite turn out as it usually did. There was a difference, and both were curious as to what it was.

With a quick good-bye, Lettuce transformed and left, bounding off in the direction Shirogane had indicated.

Ichigo was left alone.

First, she cleaned up the dishes from the meal, rather relieved to have something mindless to do instead of having to focus on what had just happened, or what had happened a while ago.

After that, however, she found herself idle and… well, rather bored. After so much sleeping in the last few days, she wanted to go out and _do_ something, but that was hardly possible. She looked around the living room for something to occupy her, but saw nothing.

That left only one real option: going upstairs and checking on Kisshu.

It _had_ been a few hours, after all, and maybe if she tried hard enough, she could keep those disconcerting thoughts at bay until _both_ of them were well and calm enough to deal with them.

She swallowed hard.

Or maybe she couldn't.

As she opened the door as quietly as she could, she bit her lip in nervous anticipation of the awkwardness she knew would come.

Any hope of Kisshu still being asleep, allowing her some delay, was quickly destroyed by the sight of him sitting up in bed, stretching carefully while giving an almost comically huge yawn. Once done, he looked up at her with a soft, expectant sort of smile, and she gulped again.

"Hey, Ichigo."

_It's okay… you can do this. Come on, just smile and answer him. You do love him, right? Right, so just smile and say…_

"H-hey Kisshu." Her attempt at a return smile was… pathetic. Making her way to the bed and sitting down on its edge, she prayed he wouldn't notice.

_That_ was rather stupid.

The boy saw it right away.

While he managed to keep his smile from faltering, he couldn't ignore a pang of disappointment.

_Well, it's not like she'd just forget that baka-Aoyama…but still…_

He _had_ been hoping everything would change. Nothing would have suited him better than Ichigo performing a complete romantic one-eighty, but that was wishful thinking.

_Meh… like that would ever happen…_

True. _That_ wouldn't happen. But there was still a chance, right? Circumstances had sure as hell changed from before; she _loved_ him now.

Loved him.

She had said so herself, and every time he played those words over in his mind, he received a happy thrill. How wonderful it felt, to associate that word with her after she had said it herself, with no unsure tremor in her voice, no murky hesitation in her eyes.

Yes, she loved him now, and even if Aoyama remained in the picture with all of his irritating persistence, Kisshu had a chance now, to show Ichigo how he had loved her all along. She wasn't pushing him away anymore.

Nervous, scared as she was, she had acknowledged him, and even if she refused to fall madly in love, that was enough to allow him to keep his smile in the face of her distress.

Even as her voice trembled as she spoke again, he managed to keep his confidence.

"H-how are you feeling?"

Still, he didn't have to _like_ that anxious expression on her face, and he gave her a bigger grin, trying to take the edge off of her obvious unease.

"Better."

She smiled, and he could see that she was trying her hardest to calm down, but succeeded only in looking nervously down at her hands.

Though he knew petty insults would do little good, he could not help his train of thought from assuming a rather familiar path:

_That idiot Aoyama…_

Wanting to relieve her discomfort, hoping to bring back some air of normalcy, he tried working his usual snide banter on the awkward situation.

"Ne, Ichigo, what's with the face? You didn't come back here to tell me you were just kidding before did you?"

Even with the mischievous spark in his eyes, even with the playful smirk on his lips, even though he tried to make his tone as jovial as he could with his still-raspy voice, the effect wasn't anything near what he had intended. To his dismay, so much so that his smile wavered, she looked up at him in something like desperation, tears beginning to pool in her eyes.

She seemed to realize that he was joking, and desperately _tried _to smirk nonchalantly back at him, but any simple stress upon that doubt she was trying so hard to avoid only made her distress worse.

"And what makes y-you… you s-say…" she had to stop; a sob was building up in the back of her throat.

"Ichigo."

The girl looked up.

In a half-blink, the boy had reached over and gingerly wrapped his good arm around her. Her head fell against his shoulder; she could feel his tangled hair tickling her ear, his fingertips pressing securely against her back, his warm skin a soft contact against hers as he spoke in a voice so reassuring, so simple and caring, that her eyes widened at its sound.

"You're not doing anything wrong."

She stiffened.

"I don't care how long you take, Ichigo, and in the end, whomever you pick, I just want you to be happy."

Her lip trembled.

"It's enough that you've taken care of me. It's enough that you've given me a chance."

His voice dropped down to a soft near-whisper.

"That's all I ever really wanted."

A tear slid down Ichigo's cheek and onto Kisshu's bare shoulder.

All he wanted… this was all he wanted…

Those words only made her past actions seem so much more _stupid_, and she sniffed as a few more tears trickled down her cheeks.

Any thoughts about her recent attitude towards him, her turning Aoyama away for the moment, her allowing for a change, simply disappeared.

_My God… he's willing to… he's actually willing to…_

"Thanks, Kisshu," she murmured. It was all she could think to say, all there was to say in response to that gesture of compassion. She closed her eyes for a moment, suddenly wanting to take time to revel in the smoothness of his skin, the comforting touch of his hand on her back.

This time, the smile came to her with greater ease, and stayed as the seconds passed and the nauseating questions withdrew from her thoughts. Ichigo slowly relaxed against the boy until his voice broke the silence again.

"But between you and me, I think I'm much better looking," he whispered into her ear before, to her sudden shock, gently nipping at it.

And this time, she made sure to react properly to his snide humor.

"You _perv_!" she shrieked, pulling back from him and glaring at him with her old tenacity.

Except that it was more of a mock-glare, for underneath that spark of annoyance ran a cool current of relief that only intensified when she saw the bit of tenderness still remaining in his little smirk. The girl saw all at once that he knew precisely what he was doing, how he was helping.

She allowed a small smile to creep into her huff and pout.

_Thanks, Kisshu… so much…_

"Well, if you're well enough for _that_, then we might as well go change that bandage now."

Smile fading a bit, he looked down at his injured shoulder, nodding with a touch of understandable reluctance. "Yeah… guess so."

"Can you get up?"

He blinked, scooting over to the edge of the bed, swinging his legs over, and slowly pushing himself up.

"Yeah, I think I ca—"

Unfortunately, his trembling legs seemed to have ideas of their own, and Ichigo had to react quickly to catch him around the waist before he hit the ground. As soon as she had a good hold on him, she snorted.

"Good job there."

"Hey, it's not _my_ fault I'm sick!"

Ichigo snorted, and smiled, again as she slowly led him out and down the hallway.

It was amazing.

Of course, her doubts would never be gone until this matter was settled, and there was so much _to_ settle: Aoyama, the remaining Mews, the remaining aliens, Shirogane (how those last two would be dealt with she couldn't even guess). But it was amazing at how some soft words from Kisshu could reassure her so completely. She didn't really think about it now, but the fact that his simple _acceptance_ of the circumstances, of her doubts, her need to choose, even the possibility of Aoyama coming back, his acceptance of all of it just because she was giving him his chance, had managed to lift her spirits so wonderfully…

It was baffling, but she didn't really notice. She didn't really _care_.

All she cared about as she led him into the bathroom was this new sense of comforting amity between them, and in her near-giddy relief, she intended to make full use of it. His words had just made it so very easy.

With another slight smirk, she let him sit down on the stool before eying him with that new amusement, that new idea of simple play, glittering in her eyes.

"You know, while we're here, you could use a bath."

He took the bait perfectly.

"And what's _that_ supposed to mean, eh? Are you insinuating," he pronounced the word in a comically lofty tone, "that I smell?"

"Well, you _are_ all sweaty," she replied, crossing her arms in mock-disgust.

To her secret delight, he actually pouted.

"_Still_ not my fault."

_This is _fun…

That was the only thought in her mind as she allowed herself a soft giggle. For the moment, she was able to be herself again. For the moment, Kisshu was able to pull her away from her doubts, and even though a part of her knew it wouldn't be forever, she allowed herself some indulgence in this carefree banter.

Ichigo went to start the water, only to be interrupted by the alien.

"So… who's gonna give me a bath?"

For a moment, her amusement was forgotten in favor of surprised blankness.

"Eh… _you_ are?"

In response, he lifted up his arms to barely chest height, wincing while doing so.

_Oh…right…_

She blushed slightly when she realized her error and what she had forced herself to do.

For a mere instant, that nervousness came charging back, but in that same instant, the memory of Kisshu's accepting embrace countered it, and defeated it.

The girl allowed herself to continue indulging in the carefree mood of the moment.

"Eh-heh…right…"

Kisshu grinned expectantly at her, eyes wide with false innocence.

"You'd _better_ not try anything funny."

"Who, me?"

If possible, his gaze grew even more innocent, and even as the cat-girl turned away with an annoyed sort of grunt, she couldn't help inwardly smiling.

In a few minutes, however, after having filled the tub with warm water and a heavy amount of bubble bath (there was no way she was risking any…eh… _inappropriate_ views), she almost wished for another bout of romantic conflict instead of what she was faced with.

"O-okay, I'm, uh, going to leave the room. You call me when you're in the tub, got it? And don't even _think_ of calling me in before that, or pushing all the bubbles to one side, or—"

"Aww… don't you trust me, koneko-chan?"

"Not when you have that _look_ on your face."

With that, she slipped out of the room, closed the door, and waited. Finally, her mind had the chance to assault her.

_I'm going to give him a bath…him, Kisshu… I never even _kissed_ Aoyama, and I'm going to give Kisshu a bath!_

It almost managed to bring those sickening thoughts back again. Almost.

"Okay!"

At his muffled call, she took a deep breath.

_It's okay, Ichigo. It's okay… you've come this far; this won't ruin much more. Besides, he said it was okay… he said so…_

Yes, Kisshu had said so, and Aoyama… Aoyama had given her a graceful acceptance as well. Now she just had to do what she had to do.

With that renewed determination, she turned around and entered the bathroom.

Any more anxiety that could have been caused by the concept of having to bathe the alien was immediately destroyed by the image before her.

By that, and by a sudden rise of her silly ability to find amusement in the strangest things.

Instead of having to fight down a wave of hesitation, she had to resist the urge to laugh. This, she failed at, and burst out in loud, unabashed shrieks of mirth. Kisshu blinked, looking adorably confused.

"What's so funny?" he asked after she managed to keep chortling for a few moments.

At first, she didn't even try to reply, gasping for breath in between giggles, then:

"You…y-you… you look like…" She had to lean against the wall for support as the boy frowned, an annoyed look crossing his face. "_What?_"

"…like a _girl_!" This managed to send her back into squeals, while Kisshu first seemed taken aback, then scowled.

"Whaddya mean, I look like a girl?"

"Your _hair_…" She finally recovered, breathing deeply as she looked at him with a silly grin. Actually, she had never seen him without the bands in his hair, and without them, the long strands fell freely down, framing his face perfectly, and that style, combined with his thin frame and smooth, pale skin… well, one couldn't really _blame_ her.

"What's wrong with my hair? I had to take it down to wash it! And it does _not_ look like a girl's! A lot of boys on my planet wear it like this!" he retorted, frowning angrily, watching as she giggled and walked over, pulling the stool up to sit beside the tub.

"Well, then I guess they look like girls, too, then," she continued with a chuckle, watching as Kisshu glared at her, opening his mouth to snap at her again, only to end up in a short coughing fit that rather ended the matter, as Ichigo busied herself with patting him lightly on the back while trying to curb her giggles. In the end, she snickered once more as he got his breath back, only to give her a scowl of disapproval before she managed to quiet herself.

"All right, all right," she soothed, still rather amused at seeing him get so flustered, "I take it back." The self-satisfied way he snorted almost drove her back to laughter again, but she focused on grabbing a bottle of shampoo and lathering it up in her hands.

"You know what shampoo is, right?"

"Mm… yeah…" he murmured, leaning back against the tub wall as Ichigo gently smoothed the shampoo into his hair, slowly working it into a foam as she pulled more of his hair into her hands. Apparently, this felt rather good, because after a few minutes, she had to shake him to make sure he was still awake.

"Oi, Kisshu?"

"Wha?"

"You're not supposed to fall asleep in the tub."

"Mmhmm…"

_I guess all of that tired him out…hehe… he's so cute when he's sleepy…_

This time, that last thought received no competition from those of Aoyama.

She smiled as the boy leaned back a bit further, indeed looking rather worn out. A sudden through striking her, Ichigo dipped one hand into the water to get the suds off, then quickly placed it on his forehead. He squirmed a bit at the surprise contact.

"Ne, what're you doing?"

"Just checking your temperature," she answered softly, "I don't think you're gonna need anymore of that medicine, though you probably still have a bit of a fever."

At this, Kisshu squirmed and pouted again. "I _hate_ being sick."

"Yeah, well, you're not alone," she replied, getting the sudden urge to ruffle his hair, but settling for a light pat on the head, as his hair was still a foamy mass of shampoo. "I have to rinse it out now."

"'Kay."

He slid held his breath as she scooped some of the bathwater up with a cup she had brought and poured it over his head. A few seconds later, tried to shake the water off, but could do nothing about the hair plastered to his face. He spluttered, reaching up to pull back the bangs and longer hair that was obscuring his vision, but stopped halfway with a soft gasp of pain.

"Don't do that, baka. Here."

Ichigo, though blushing ever so slightly, pulled the hair off of his face, only to blush a little more at the smug delight in his eyes. Instead of dwelling on _that_, she cleared her throat, pointedly looking away and grabbing a bar of soap.

"You want me to lean back some more?"

"Um, yeah."

She didn't know why he seemed so eager until he did lean back, only a bit more, considering his still-healing gash, but enough to give her a perfect view of the rest of his chest, which was, admittedly…

Well, it wasn't unpleasant to look at. Let's put it that way.

Ichigo blinked, then allowed herself a moment of glaring at the smirking alien before beginning her work, trying all the while to keep her face from getting _too_ red. She tried to ignore the fact that her ears and tail had popped out.

_Just concentrate on moving your hand. Don't concentrate what you're moving it against… there you go…_

She did just that, focusing determinedly on her own motion instead of on his chest, and somehow, the next thing she knew, her ears and tail had disappeared, and she was asking him to dunk back down and rinse the stuff off, which he did with that infuriating smirk still firmly on his face.

"You just had to make that hard, didn't you?"

He snickered. "Hey, I haven't been able to do anything fun for the last four days. I think I'm entitled."

"Oh, you do, do you?"

She flicked his long ear out of annoyance, only to be met with an indignant "Hey!"

Again, Ichigo returned to giggling. "What?" she asked, all his former innocence transferred to her as she reached out to pull on his ear.

This resulted in him splashing some water at her, causing her to shriek. "What do you think you're doing?"

Kisshu only grinned and splashed her again.

The next few minutes were spent in a water fight, the alien splashing bubbles and water in an attempt to drench Ichigo, while she managed to grab the shower hose and spray him in the face with it while shrieking with mixed laughter and indignation. At some point, the girl introduced her old rubber ducky as a weapon and threw it at him, only to have it smack her in the head a while later.

It was something of a miracle that the bubbles held up as they did while the two threw water at each other, Ichigo getting the obvious worst of it even though Kisshu could only throw lightly due to his injury, seeing as she started out dry. Nevertheless, she gave nearly as good as she got, and the only thing that cut the battle and its bouts of yelps and laughter was the girl throwing a bit too much water at the boy, who ended up coughing so hard that Ichigo had to tap him on the back to help him breathe again.

After he stopped, the girl sat back to take a survey of the damage.

The floor was all wet, not to mention some sections of wall. She was drenched, her blouse and jeans soaked through, while Kisshu was leaning back against the tub, breathing somewhat heavily in exhaustion.

That, however, was not her greatest concern.

_That was… that…_

She blinked in mild shock.

_That was… great._

It wasn't something she'd ever do with Aoyama; he was too… too polite to engage her in such banter and play. Sure, he could have fun, but it was always structured. It was undoubtedly sweet, but it was never this silly, this spontaneous, or…

She couldn't even put words to it.

_Is this what I've been missing this entire time?_

_That_ thought hit her hardest.

All this time, rejecting Kisshu, ridiculing and fighting him, had this been what she had been missing?

It seemed… it seemed such a _shame_ because truthfully, it had been a long time since she had laughed so hard. It really had been.

_All this time…_

What struck her next was how… how oddly _human_ it made the alien boy seem. Granted, to start the teasing, she had had to comment on his alien hairstyle, and to start the water fight, she had had to pull on his alien ears, but in the end, he had behaved so… so _normally_.

Normally, but still in a way that had tickled her.

_Heh. I guess I… not anymore._

"Oi."

She was startled out of her thoughts by Kisshu's voice.

"You think you can change this now?" he asked, referring, of course, to the bandage.

The girl nodded, blinking in mild surprise, still somewhat absorbed in her thoughts. Nevertheless, she moved back towards him, taking the bandaging supplies off the counter (they actually managed to escape the drenching), and gently untying the cloth.

The wound looked much better than when she had last seen it; healing was obviously underway. Even so, Ichigo grimaced at what pink flesh was still visible, carefully dabbing the boy dry around the gash before wrapping a new bandage around it. She skipped the antiseptic; it looked fine as it was, and the bath had certainly cleaned it out. In a few minutes of gentle work and somewhat tense silence from the alien boy, she was done.

"All right, Kisshu. You wanna dry off now?"

He nodded.

"I'm _not_ doing that for you."

"…"

"_Kisshu_…"

"Fine, fine."

"I'll be right back, then. I'm going to go change and get you some new pajamas."

With that, she rose, grabbed a towel for herself, handed one to him, and hurried back to her room. First, she quickly dried off and changed into a new t-shirt and jeans. Then, after a few seconds of pawing through her drawer, she found a set of light blue pajamas that she grabbed and walked back to the bathroom with. The girl knocked on the door.

"You done?"

"Yeah."

Slowly, she opened the door (lest he be lying), and found the boy sitting on the stool, wrapped in a dry towel, looking up at her with a tired expression on his face. She was hardly surprised at how his eyes were only half-open.

_Poor guy… that illness must have really taken it out of him…_

She smiled gently, handing him the clothes.

"You can put the pants on yourself, right?"

Looking slightly disappointed even in his weariness, he nodded.

"Okay, then do that, and I'll help you with the shirt."

Another minute or so later, she came back into the room, asked him to lift his arms as far as he could, and slipped the shirt over his head. A sudden thought occurred to her.

"Ne, Kisshu, you mind sitting here for a few minutes while I go change the blankets and stuff? You'd just get all sweaty again if you slept in them."

"Kay…"

She left him to lean back against the tub while she grabbed a new set of bed sheets from the hall closet and hurried through changing the bedspread, then ran back to the bathroom only to catch Kisshu in the middle of another yawn.

Smothering a giggle, she crouched down next to him.

"Ready?"

"For you? Always," he grinned through his fatigue, and Ichigo had to stop herself from giving him a sarcastic retort, satisfying herself with rolling her eyes good-naturedly as she supported him and led him back into her room.

He was about to lie back down on her bed when she grabbed his arm.

"Wait. We should dry your hair. I don't want you getting sicker again."

"Mou… Ichigo…"

"It'll only take a little while, I promise"

Sure enough, soon after she had found her hairdryer, his green hair was as dry and soft as ever. Shutting the appliance off, she fulfilled her previous urge and ruffled his hair.

"There. Done."

"Good," he replied and, to her shock, lay right down against her.

"K-Kisshu! If you want to go to sleep, lie down _on_ the bed. It's not like you can't breathe anymore."

"Meh… I like this better," he replied, a small smile playing on his lips as he snuggled up against her, eyes already closed. At least he missed her blush.

She pursed her lips.

"Fine, but only until you fall asleep."

"Mmm… just a little nap… hungry…"

"I'll make something while you sleep."

"'Kay…"

It was, of course, no real secret that the girl's playful annoyance quickly dissolved into tenderness as she placed a hand on Kisshu's head, slowly beginning to stroke the newly-washed hair while he nuzzled her as he had done before. This time, however, there was a new sense of _right_ in it. The air surrounding them was so different, not one of desperation against death and pain, but one of nurturing a new growth, a new path, a new possibility. Ichigo knew it. Kisshu reveled in it, even while gradually falling asleep.

Before he was totally gone, Ichigo leaned down to whisper into his ear one last time.

"Kisshu?"

"Mm…"

"Thanks again."

She thought he nodded, but she couldn't be sure. He fell asleep right after the last syllable left her lips, and she only smiled as she gently lifted him off of her, lay him back down, and drew the covers up over him. The girl stayed a few more seconds, reaching out to brush the boy's still-unbound long hair off of his face before leaving the room to go downstairs and fulfill her promise of food.

_Thank you…so much…_

As she descended the stairs, another thought came to her.

_I wonder how Lettuce is doing…_

* * *

The porpoise-girl had had no trouble finding the battlefield; a few leaps south of Ichigo's house had brought sounds of energy blasts and small explosions to her ears. Within a few minutes, she had found a swarm of bird Chimera Anima, probably what had once been sparrows, laying waste to a thankfully empty street. Cars had been destroyed, the sidewalk was in pieces, but there were no humans about, which was the first odd aspect of the attack. 

_Whom in the world is he attacking_? Lettuce wondered as she gazed up at the purple-haired alien directing the beasts. To her surprise, Pai looked right back down at her, and he seemed to… to hesitate?... before unleashing a gust of wind in her direction and flying down to meet her in combat.

Here was the second odd aspect. While the dealt his blows as he always did, they could hardly be called blows at all. Whenever he hit her, it was more of a tap than a true punch or kick, and he didn't hit her that often at all. Lettuce found herself hardly breaking a sweat as she blocked a swing, knocking the alien aside to try to attack the Chimera Anima.

"Ribbon Lettuce Rush!"

They were weak, pitiful creatures, and only one wave of the attack sent them to oblivion. That, however, wasn't the strangest part of it. She hadn't even thought she'd be able to unleash an attack. Surely the alien should have stopped her? How had she pushed him aside so easily?

"I apologize."

All of those thoughts vanished as his voice interrupted her musing. She turned to face him with a soft gasp.

That gasp was quickly joined by a sudden blush when she saw that he was _bowing _to her.

Apologizing.

Bowing.

To _her_.

What in the world…?

She struggled to make her voice come out normally.

"I-I…I…"

She could have sworn she saw a smile trying to lift his lips, but it was only for a fraction of a moment. A half-blink later, the thought had been driven from her mind as he went on in his usually stiff manner.

"In order to bring you out here without arousing my master's suspicions, I needed to create a believable scenario, and an attack was the only acceptable method. I trust you have not been injured?"

Even though he said that last sentence in the flattest tone of voice the girl thought possible, the question still made her blush faintly.

"N-no."

"Then will you allow me a few minutes of your time?"

Too stunned for words, she only nodded as he floated down to stand before her. Like before, when she had first spoken to him during this whole misadventure, she was rather nervous. This time, however, she was able to remember the alien's own grudging desperation, his reluctance and his worry, and her fear ebbed somewhat. Lettuce swallowed as he began to speak, but allowed compassion into her gaze. Something told her that the meeting would require it.

"I…rather, _Taruto_ and I, wish to know about Kisshu's progress."

_Know about… but it's only been a day…_

At first, Lettuce was honestly confused and only stared back at the alien, lips slightly parted as her mind went blank.

Then, as she recovered, her empathy kicked in, and she automatically softened.

A day… only a day, and he was back, asking for news. That meant only one thing:

They were worried. _Both_ were worried, even though Pai had stressed Taruto's name in an attempt to make his own concern less noticeable.

Yesterday's meeting with him and its realizations came back with all their force. Unable to help herself, she smiled, a small, shy smile, but enough to make his eyes widen ever so slightly, imperceptibly, if one had not been looking for it. She had been, and it only made her smile more.

"We gave him the medicine, and he is much better. He was asleep before I left the house. He has been sleeping much better, and eating, and—"

"How is your companion treating him?"

The question caught Lettuce off guard, and she faltered for a moment.

"How…?"

"Is she being civil to him?"

_Civil…?_

Lettuce blinked, detecting a trace of irritation in the alien's voice. Was that what he was worried about? Ichigo acting nicely?

Well… perhaps it was understandable. That whole love triangle _had_ been the start of this…

That thought out of the way, Lettuce gave the alien a kind smile. Pai actually blinked rapidly in surprise, rather taken aback. Suddenly, he knew that this was going to be an answer he did not fully expect.

"Ano… she and… and h-he…" Lettuce trailed off, not quite knowing what to say.

Finally, she managed to put together a sentence.

"They are getting along rather well." The girl looked up expectantly, anxious to gauge the alien's reaction.

Pai was… he couldn't say stunned, because that had passed already. He had been stunned when he had stayed to watch Ichigo take Kisshu in her arms and help lull him to sleep.

He couldn't say he had been expecting the answer, because while he knew what he had seen, he had still somewhat refused to believe it. Even though the picture had been there, it had seemed so _impossible_… yet now, in a subtle way, this girl was confirming it. She did not explicitly say anything about love or affection, but he could see those concepts embodied in the clear blue of her eyes as she gazed back at him. Suddenly, he wished he had not been so worried. He wished that Taruto's anxiety had not added on to his. He wished he hadn't brought this up, for now, with this bit of affirmation, he saw the real problem more clearly than ever.

The mission…if this was happening, then what about…

The next moment startled him beyond words, for the girl did something that both amazed him and disturbed him: she plunged right into the subject he was dreading to delve into.

"P-Pai-san, I… I know this is strange, but I… t-the way Kisshu-san and Ichigo-san have been—"

"I did not ask for details."

As soon as he regained his nerve, she lost hers.

"I was only… that is, you an—"

He frowned, and that simple action made him look so much more formidable to her, that she immediately fell silent.

"You have given me the information I need, and I thank you for it." Again, he bowed, but now it was stiffer, more forced.

_She cannot be suggesting… that is impossible. That girl must still love that boy, and there is no way she and Kisshu… no way… because then, how could we…no!_

"If I need to speak to you again, I will contact you. Good day."

He vanished.

Lettuce stayed rooted to the spot.

He hadn't even _listened_ to her. He hadn't…hadn't…

Could she blame him for that? Could she really?

No.

She knew what he had been thinking. In spite of his ability to keep his face blank, his talent for hiding his thoughts, she knew exactly what had been going through his mind, for the same thing had been going through hers:

If Ichigo and Kisshu fall in love, how can the missions go on?

If the human girl and alien boy formed a bond, how could the fighting continue?

Lettuce wondered how the fighting could continue _now_; she did not know how she could possibly meet Kisshu or any of the aliens in true, fierce combat ever again after helping to care for the boy. This time, it had only been a fake fight, and Lettuce had sensed its abnormal nature from the beginning, so engaging the alien in a mock-battle had been simple.

How could she ever be called to a _real_ battle, though?

And if Kisshu and Ichigo actually…

If _that_ happened, how could everything go on the way it had been?

Lettuce shook her head in despair.

_It can't. It can't, and he knew that. He knew that, and that's why he left. That's why he wouldn't let me talk… wouldn't listen…_

Suddenly, an overwhelming wave of sympathy came down upon her, for the aliens, for their people, for _Pai _himself

_He saw it, and he knew that if that happened, there would be no way to save his people… And if that happened, there would be no way for us to protect Earth…_

This involved so much more than Ichigo's relationship with Aoyama. There was so much at stake here, so much to gain or to lose.

_If only… if only there was some way to make him listen…_

If only she could convince Pai that fighting was not the best way. If only this something that was growing between Kisshu and Ichigo could be used, could be harnessed to end the rest.

But how could that be possible? How could the eldest alien see it, loyal as he was to the mission he was given, to the leader who demanded the destruction of humans? If that was the only way he had been taught, then that was what he would accept as law; Lettuce could see that. She knew already that that was the sort of creature Pai was.

_And even if he somehow accepts it, what about the rest… the other girls, Shirogane-san…_

It was hopeless, yet there had to be hope. There had to be a _way_. This couldn't all just go to waste. It simply _couldn't_.

Lettuce bit her lip as she changed back to normal, beginning her walk back to Ichigo's house.

It had all changed, and it ran so much deeper than Aoyama.

* * *

At the same time this realization hit Lettuce with its breathtaking force, Ichigo carefully slid out from under Kisshu before laying him down, covering him, and, after a moment's silent thought, kissing him lightly on the temple. 

_It's changing_, she thought with a strange smile as she walked downstairs to fulfill her promise of food.

Both girls knew circumstance, both small and monumental, were swiftly changing.

Neither knew where they would lead.

* * *

AN: Wow. That was long. Really, really long :P. I can only hope the next installment will come sometime soon. Can't promise anything, but let's cross our fingers, ne? Heh, I hope that somewhat made up for the long wait. I apologize in advance for typos; it's 2 AM over here. I can barely see straight. Huzzah! But man, it was worth it! Oi… mum's mad though :P Hehe. 

So, read and review, if you can. Jeez, I hope everyone's somewhat in character… that's been bothering me to no end lately, for some reason. Meh. Ah well.

Again, would you guys like me to write a sequel delving into what happens to somewhat end the series? I'm still not sure… but it would prolly be fun to do. Any thoughts would be nice.

Heh. Night, all!


	18. Chapter 18

AN: Wow. Three weeks. How that sucks :P But this time, there is an excuse: Full Moon wo Sagashite! Yes, I was watching that anime for about a week. Oh, and my brother has been using the comp A LOT lately. Like, too much :P. Yea… well, hopefully the next one will come quicker. This is also a sort-long one! Yay! At least you guys aren't getting a pitiful chappie after all that wait.

Now, review replies. I'm gonna make these quick, because first, I wanna go to sleep (it's 1:37 AM over here, people. Good thing I have a two hour delay for school tomorrow cuz of the snowstorm we just had) and second, I think you all just want to read the story. So, here we go:

AKC: Nya, I just love you! I hope you enjoy this chappie. Oh, and go write more. PEOPLE, GO READ HER STORY, BABYSITTER. DO IT. NOW. UNDER ANIMEKITTYCAFE. :P

Yuko: Yes, they are cute, aren't they? I just love 'em! Yea… I'm generally setting up for a sequel. Huzzah.

TigerLilly101: I know. I want an uber smexy alien, too. We all do, deep down. And yea, stories that rush are annoying :P. I try to slow mine down as much as I can. Prolly too much, but ah well.

Jenvaati: Heh. Fruit… yea, I'm somehow gonna wrap the series up in a sequel sometime in the future. Yay me.

BlackWingedGabriel: Are we getting smutty thoughts….? I wasn't aiming for anything questionable, honest. Hmph :P. And a romantic one-eighty just means a complete switch... you know? Like, going on-eighty degrees in a circle, to the other side…

SLTC: Nah, now I'm the slowest. PEOPLE, GO READ THIS ONE'S FICTION, TOO.

Heth: One day, I dream of finding a collection of K/I drabbles featuring numerous close moments. Cuz I'm growing to be fluffy like that. And yea, I agree with the relationship thing. I've always seen a relationship between Kisshu and Ichigo as being more… on equal terms, you know? I mean, Aoyama's always plainly dominant, not because he's forceful, but because Ichigo turns to mush around him :P. With Kisshu… well, Kisshu strikes me as dominant, but Ichigo also seems more able to handle his version of dominance (somewhat forceful, often resorting to teasing and the like), so they have more of a playful, equal relationship in my mind. Eheh. Yea :P.

Dust-in: Oh, there will be P/L fluff in the sequel, which I hope to eventually do. Oh, heck yes.

Didgi-girl: I love attracting the non-fans :P.

LaDy-IzA: Nya… write it anyways. I wanna read more K/I fics :P

Sakura Kamiya101: Heh. You're welcome. Now, go update your story. I command thee :P.

Chikuku x Ana-ki: Heh. It was long, wasn't it? This one's almost as long :P

Everyone else whom I'm too tired/lazy/nya to answer: Thanks for your reviews! They really do mean so much. Over 180… I'm impressed with your diligence :P.

And now…

Disclaimer: Okay, if I owned TMM (I feel like a political candidate right now :P) I would make sure Aoyama had his brain eaten by a giant anteater name Scruffles. Then, Kisshu would get Ichigo, lovely sappy music would play, and the world would be a better place.

Finally, enjoy!

* * *

It was about eight o'clock when Ichigo carefully twisted her doorknob open and peeked into the room, as quiet as she could have possibly been. 

She had been relaxing downstairs, watching some television, tidying up a bit, while Kisshu took his nap. The nap had just reached three hours in length, and Ichigo had finally resolved to wake her alien charge up for the promised food. Nevertheless, silence had become such a habit after the past few days and nights, that she opened the door without the minutest squeak of the hinges, and tiptoed in, in case he was still asleep.

He was, and a hand immediately flew to her mouth to suppress a giggle at the sight of him.

She had thought him cute when tired.

Now, asleep and actually looking relatively healthy, he was (and she did feel slightly sheepish admitting to this after so steadfastly clinging to the opposite for so long) plainly adorable. Curled up on his side, one arm hanging limply off the bed, Kisshu slept on, snoring very softly, strands of his long, unbound hair half-covering his face, some rhythmically moving back and forth with his breath.

Unable to stop herself, Ichigo kneeled down beside him.

The last time she had had the chance to examine him this closely, he had been consumed by fever and illness, and watching him had brought awful pangs of fear to her heart.

Not so this time.

This time, he really did look relaxed, peaceful, content in his slumber.

She could take full delight in it, without either revulsion or illness to ruin everything.

Ichigo did just that.

A smile playing about her lips, she reached out to gently push the hair back off of his cheek, blushing as her fingertips just barely brushed his pale skin. Before, his skin had been dangerously flushed, covered with a thin sheen of fever-sweat. His face had been drawn in fear and pain, his hair sweat and tangled. She had felt so indescribably awful…

And before that, before this had all happened, Ichigo had never bothered to form an opinion on how the alien boy looked. She had never bothered to study him that thoroughly. Even the day of their meeting, she had been less concerned with his (then) odd appearance and more concerned with his unexpected kiss. From there, she had taken little notice of what was so wonderfully obvious now.

He was so many things: beautiful, strange, handsome, elegant, impish… and cute.

Oh, yes.

Relaxed, asleep, all the sarcasm, the wit, the passion, the anger, the seriousness, all that she had ever seen in his face was gone, leaving only a visage that was so soft and innocent that she could hardly believe it was still Kisshu.

But it was… it _was_, and that only added onto her wonder, her quiet awe at this turn of events as she allowed her smile to grow, running her fingers through his hair, slowly, carefully, before running a fingertip over one of his ears.

Even his _ears_ captivated her as she watched him. Why in the world hadn't she ever noticed how fascinating they were, how delicately pointed, how undeniably alien, yet still somehow endearing?

Why in the world hadn't she noticed it before?

Well, she had before, but he had been so ill then, that the effect involved more worry than the soft joy she felt now.

Why hadn't she noticed it _before_ that?

_Ne, Kisshu, have you always…_

Had he always been this way? Had he always had this tender skin, these beautifully strange ears, these soft, long eyelashes, these pale lips? Had this face, this countenance, this picture of innocence with an alluring hint of devilish passion running underneath its serene surface always been here?

Had he always been this way, even when her heart had belonged solely to Aoyama? How interesting, that that stray thought didn't cause a pause in her actions, when once, it would have broken her down into terrible frustration. All it did was soften her expression with a tinge of solemnity, no more.

Finally, she allowed her hand to rest, slightly cupped, against his cheek from temple to chin, her thumb just barely stroking his cheekbone.

He was solid.

He was there: solid, real, warm, breathing.

_Breathing_. For a few seconds, she just listened to him breathe, so clear and strong now, as his warmth registered against her palm.

It was so…

Had he always been this way? Or had he changed?

She knew she had.

Perhaps, both of them had.

So wrapped up had she become in these thoughts, that her thumb had stopped its stroking motions. She hadn't noticed, but her attention was quickly called to it.

"Ne… Ichigo… couldja keep doin' that…?"

The cat-girl blinked. She realized that at some point during her musings, a pair of golden eyes had opened and was currently staring with her in mild amusement as her face reddened.

"Kisshu!" Her tone swiftly turned from surprised to accusing. "How long have you been _awake_?" She snatched her hand back, looking comically miffed as the alien yawned, lips drawing back slightly to reveal his gleaming fangs, before performing as leisurely a stretch as he could muster with a half-healed wound on his chest.

As Ichigo blushed scarlet, fully aware of how _caught_ she was, he eyed her with a serenity that only served to make her flustered state more amusing.

"Only from when you put your hand on my face." He gave her a grin.

"You…!" she rapidly recovered and responded by poking him sharply in the forehead, earning only a snicker that coaxed a half-hearted pout from her. She wrinkled her nose in disdain. He could be so _infuriating_.

"So… did you want something, or did you wake me up just to tou—"

Hell yes. Infuriating. Infuriating enough to earn another poke.

Of course, that did nothing to change what had just happened, what she had just felt, and in a few moments, she had a wry grin on her face, fighting back a giggle that threatened to ruin her annoyed image.

Kisshu only smirked at her as he sat up, shifting just a bit closer.

Such a moment was too much for him to pass up, after all.

…at least, it would have been, had his stomach not noisily reminded the two of its rather empty state. The boy froze, blinked, and blushed slightly when Ichigo let a giggle slip. Now reminded of the purpose of food, still snickering good-naturedly, the girl stood and motioned for her charge to do the same.

"There's some food downstairs." For a moment, familiar concern entered her gaze. "You okay to get up?"

Kisshu grinned at her. "Never felt better."

It was true. That last nap had granted him a great deal of strength, and sure enough, he stood without problem. Even so, Ichigo seemed to have too many frightening memories of his recent condition to let just that overpower her new-found mothering instinct. She quickly whipped out the thermometer, sticking it in his mouth and combating his look of indignation with a stern glare.

A rapid beeping announced completion, and the girl grabbed the instrument, studied it for a few tense moments, and rather alarmed Kisshu with a sudden, gigantic grin.

"Perfect!"

Blinking somewhat… bewilderedly at Ichigo's incredibly sunny expression, Kisshu recovered enough to ask, "Then we can go ea—"

Unfortunately, though his fever had long broken, that pesky cough proved to be more resilient, and Ichigo's face fell as the boy fell into a short coughing fit.

Okay… perhaps his condition wasn't _perfect_.

_He really shouldn't go downstairs like this…_

Suddenly, she brightened, rushed over to her closet and, after a few moments of rummaging through it, pulled out her find. Kisshu, taking a few deep breaths after the spell, looked up first curiously, then with an expression of incredulous horror.

"Hell no."

Ichigo pouted, thrusting the thing into his hands.

"You're not totally fine yet! If you go downstairs like this, you'll get chilled, get sick all over again, and then we'll be right back where we started. You want that?" she huffed, hands firmly on her hips.

"No…"

"Then _put it on_."

"But Ichigo… don't you have another—"

"If you don't put it on, I'll never let you kiss me again!"

"…you know, it's not like you usually _let_ me kiss y—"

"Put it on. _Now_."

Meeting her gaze, Kisshu didn't know whether to inwardly rejoice at her concern, or to be frightened by her commanding death glare. Either way, he obeyed.

The pair made their way down the hallway, Ichigo smiling contentedly, Kisshu sullenly subdued, rather thankful that they were the only people in the house.

He was warmly bundled up in what must have been Ichigo's fluffiest, pinkest bathrobe. At that moment, the tips of his ears rather matched that bathrobe in color. Ichigo was having quite a time trying to keep from outright laughing at him.

"You can sit there," she said, suppressing a giggle and pointing at a seat at her kitchen table. He obliged, giving up his scowl in favor of a look of curiosity as she opened the refrigerator, stared at its contents for a few seconds, then grabbed a container, popped the lid, and set it in the microwave.

"What does that thing do?" Kisshu questioned, craning his neck to get a better look at the rotating dish in the microwave.

"That'll heat it up," Ichigo replied distractedly, focus on the microwave's contents (ever since getting cat genes, she had developed a strange affinity for watching the microwave tray rotate; today was no exception). "Don't you have something like that on your planet?"

During the next few seconds, she busied herself with taking the leftovers out of the machine, hurriedly placing the container on the counter to avoid getting burned. It took a while for her to realize that the boy hadn't answered.

"Kisshu?"

Turning around, she fell silent, facial muscles immediately slackening into a somber expression at the sight of the boy's suddenly darkened countenance, a murky despair reflected in his eyes.

At first, she couldn't really understand what she had done wrong, but as she thought about it, she remembered the images she had seen of the boy's homeworld, and how frigid, unforgiving a place it had looked. It suddenly occurred to her that her question, or even her simple mention of his home, had, for whatever reason, swiftly reminded him of his original objectives.

_From what I saw… they probably don't have enough food there… or… or anything, really… and if they do…_

She remembered seeing all of those people huddled together in those barren crevices, waiting in line for food, holding their children…

That thought brought a powerful wave of guilt and nausea crashing over her, and she swallowed inaudibly, frantically trying to call her voice back as she sat down across from Kisshu.

"I'm sorry."

He looked up, surprise showing through the sadness, as Ichigo struggled to meet his gaze and keep her eyes from filling with tears.

"I didn't mean to…" It was a bit too much for her, and she dropped her gaze to the table.

"It's not your fault."

The girl looked up, plainly shocked, into Kisshu's eyes. A slight, sad smile had appeared on his face.

"It's… it's no one's really, ne?"

She blinked, somehow… _amazed_ that he was right. Right now, that conclusion seemed so painfully obvious.

_No… I guess not…_

But it didn't seem _fair_. Ichigo didn't know why it hadn't occurred to her before, but now, hearing that almost dejected tone in his voice, it didn't seem right.

It seemed absolutely disgusting that his kind had to live like that, and that he and his friends had to come here, come here and make so many enemies, just to try to help in the only way they could…

"Kisshu?"

Their eyes met, and he fell silent at the compassion in her gaze and the almost apologetic smile on her lips.

"Tell me about it."

"…what?"

She spoke louder.

"Tell me."

"A-about… about what?" He looked rather shocked, confused, even, at her request, even as her smile grew.

"I don't know. Anything. Just… about you. About your life… your people… there's so much that I… that we…"

Even though she trailed off, losing some of her nerve as he continued to stare at her, he understood the girl perfectly.

The request just surprised him. Perhaps it was because it had suddenly brought back a very strong memory of Deep Blue outlining the dangers of humans way back when the mission had started. Perhaps it involved the ever-present wonder at the transformation of their relationship over the last few days.

The sheer sincerity in her eyes, combined with those other two reasons, was probably the real cause.

It passed, though, and a minute later, before he even realized he had begun, the boy was telling her things he had never dreamed of mentioning to a human. He described their world, its dreariness, its awful climate, the murderous snow beasts that lived upon it, original inhabitants of the place and a constant threat due to their predatory ways. He softly went on about how his kind lived, how there wasn't enough food, no matter how hard everyone tried their best in working the soil for all its nutrients, how morbidly awful it was to awaken every morning to darkness and cold and eternal snow, knowing that that was all one could look forward to.

Ichigo had been having a hard enough time keeping tears at bay when the one-sided conversation involved relatively impersonal descriptions. Then they boy moved on to details regarding his own life.

He was so absorbed in speaking that he did not notice Ichigo's eyes tear when he spoke of his family, how his father had died while he was only a small boy, how his mother had struggled to provide enough food and shelter for him and two of his cousins, little girls orphaned at birth, how she had worked herself into illness trying to give her small family the strength it needed to just barely survive. He didn't notice her tears spill over as he recounted his own motives, his dire need to help his mother, his adopted sisters, his friends, their families, _everyone_.

Only after relating his training, how hard he had worked, pushed himself, to qualify for the mission that had been so depended upon, did he look up and freeze at the sight of her tears.

Ichigo didn't even try to stop them. She couldn't.

The notion that this boy had given his life to training, masking his own pain and terror and sadness with sarcastic humor and arrogance and this carefree air, all while desperately working himself to reach the simple goal of giving those for whom he cared a better life…

"I-Ichigo, I—"

And now he was trying to keep _her_ from crying. He was smiling at her, a silly sort of grin that she realized he must have practiced millions of times to make convincing, to make sure that he could fit the role of able rescuer.

"Don't cry… I just said a bit too much…"

And she had… she had _fought_ him. She had become the reason that he was _failing_. Failing those two little girls waiting for their protective big brother to come home, failing his mother, who had begged him not to leave, told him that she couldn't bear the thought of him risking his life in such a way…

"No more."

Kisshu almost jumped at Ichigo's voice; the sternness of it, the force in its tone, was almost alarming.

"What?"

"No more." She shook her head, gazing up at him with glistening eyes.

She couldn't do it anymore. Even if the other Mews insisted, even if the Earth fell apart, even if in the end, she discovered she had to go back to Aoyama, she couldn't do it. Never again.

"I can't fight you any more, Kisshu. No matter what they say…I won't. I… I refuse to. I just can't!"

He was taken aback, needless to say. For a few moments, he just stared at her as she stared back, tears slowly trickling down her cheeks as all he had just told her played through her head again and again.

Silence reigned for a good minute until Kisshu smiled.

It was such a soft, gentle, utterly _sincere_ smile, that Ichigo stopped crying, actually amazed for a moment, that such a smile could reside on this alien's face.

"You really mean that, Ichigo?"

The way he said her name almost made her sob, but she just nodded.

"Yes."

His eyes were so indescribably beautiful as the gazed at her right then, filled with an almost bashful gratitude and a true determination that could have made her gasp had she not been so frozen in her wonder.

"Then I promise to do everything in my power to never have to hurt you again."

As her blood pounded in her ears, her face slowly growing hot and scarlet, her fists, clenched tightly at her sides while she had spoken, gently relaxing, she wished she could take a step back, just for a minute.

She wanted to dwell on that last sentence.

_Never hurt me again… never again…_

Ichigo had to drop her gaze; keeping her eyes on the alien was only making that overwhelming emotion in her chest grow, and she didn't know if she could control herself while letting that happen.

Kisshu said nothing, only allowing his smile to grow slightly as Ichigo's words fully sank in. How long had it been since he had begun yearning to hear those words? It seemed like an eternity ago.

A long, harsh, cruel eternity.

That eternity was so _worth_ it now.

The girl would have cried more, perhaps not been able to stop as the exact meaning of those words, their consequences, their effects on the near future, sank in, but she was brought back to control by the beeping of the microwave. Oddly enough, as soon as that machine beeped, bringing her thoughts back to present reality, everything was all right.

What he said made perfect sense, even _more_ than perfect sense.

It made her smile.

"Still hungry?" she asked quietly.

Even though the query had absolutely nothing to do with the meaningful promise Kisshu had just made, he knew that it was an answer. The gentle, almost timid tone she spoke in said "thank you." That was it.

A return smile.

He accepted it.

"Yeah."

* * *

"Hey! This stuff is really good!" 

"Well, Lettuce made i— hey! Don't eat it so fast! You're going to make yourself sick!"

"But I'm _hungry!_"

"You have to at least _chew_ it!"

Lettuce blinked in mild confusion at this odd snippet of conversation she managed to catch as she locked the door and hung up her coat. Curiosity momentarily winning over the sober feelings lingering after her meeting with Pai, she quietly moved to the doorway that led to the kitchen.

She blinked again. Slowly.

And expression of amused puzzlement quickly took up residence within her features.

Ichigo stood next to the kitchen table, hands firmly on her hips, glaring down at her charge as he gave her a look of sullen obedience and sulkily chewed his mouthful of vegetables before swallowing and, with a glance of playful defiance, shoveling in another forkful.

He looked a world better than when the porpoise-girl had last seen him. His face had nearly regained its color (of course, it was normally pale, so one couldn't really judge by that), and his skin didn't carry that sickly sheen of fever-sweat the girl had grown used to seeing in the past couple of days. His renewed appetite was only another indicator of his returning health, and Lettuce couldn't help hiding a gentle smile at another of Ichigo's loud, exasperated admonishments that the boy pointedly ignored.

She also couldn't stifle a giggle at the fact that he was wearing what appeared to be one of Ichigo's bathrobes.

That soft noise alerted the two to her presence, and as soon as they looked up at her, she quickly stammered an apology for what she automatically considered her intrusion.

"I-I'm sorry. I didn—"

"Lettuce! You're back!"

_I guess with Ichigo, there's no need to apologize…_

A smile relaxed her face.

"Hai." She looked over at Kisshu, who was watching her with a look she deemed oddly expectant. For a second, her smile wavered.

His eyes… for a moment, they looked so piercing… what was he…?

The next second saw him giving her a cheerful "Yo!" before returning to the delicate art of stabbing vegetables with his fork (apparently, his wound had healed enough to allow fork usage, even though chopsticks were still a bit too precise). Lettuce allowed her smile to return before lifting up her hand in a sort of half-wave.

"You've been gone a while! We were wondering when you'd get back."

Lettuce turned back to the smiling Ichigo, and suddenly realized where the conversation was heading: towards her meeting.

She didn't want to go there. Not yet.

Laughing a tad more nervously than she would have liked to, she replied, "Ah, well, y-you know…"

Nope. Ichigo did _not_ look at all satisfied by that. Lettuce had to cut in quickly as the other girl opened her mouth.

"Kisshu-san is doing better, then?"

This question immediately diverted Ichigo's attention (for once, Lettuce was thankful for her relatively short attention span), and her smile grew even wider.

Before she could answer, however, the alien himself left his near-empty plate in favor of grinning at the porpoise-girl.

"'Course I'm better. How could I not be, with Ichigo-chan taking care of me?"

Neither girl missed the underlying gratitude in his voice.

Lettuce inwardly smiled, glancing over at her friend, whose face had quickly taken on the color of the fruit she was named for as she quickly took interest in her hands, a small, barely noticeable smile alighting on her lips. A few moments of warm silence passed before Kisshu decided it prudent to completely fulfill his habitual role.

"You know… her soft touch caressing my chest, her warm, gentle lips against my forehead, her hands moving d—"

Lettuce blushed at what would have probably been a fine list of…._questionable_ imagery had Ichigo not yelped in sudden embarrassment, rushing over to the boy and grabbing one long ear between thumb and forefinger in an attempt to quiet him. It worked, though of course, he didn't look particularly overjoyed as she gave him a firm tug.

"Hey, I didn't say an—"

"I just gave him a bath, dried his hair, and woke him up after a nap! That's all, I swear!"

At first, Kisshu looked miffed at having his amusement cut short, but the shock that invaded Lettuce's features after hearing _that_ little confession quickly brought his smirk back.

Ichigo finally realized how… _interesting_ that first one sounded and frantically backpedaled.

"I-I mean…I…nyaaa… You. Be. _Quiet_!"

"Ow!"

Kisshu's snickers were swiftly replaced by a whine of pain as Ichigo pinched harder. The girl gave her bemused companion an embarrassed smile, giggling nervously.

Suddenly, Lettuce smiled back.

She saw the ease, the tranquility that had quickly grown in her absence.

Of course, hardly anyone would call the pink-haired cat-girl growling at her alien charge while he responded with combined whining and smirking the embodiment of tranquility, but Lettuce saw it for what it was.

The girl knew that all of that only showed how comfortable together those two had grown since that last confrontation and its resulting ordeal.

Even as Ichigo childishly pouted at the boy, Lettuce could see the genuine amusement dancing in her eyes.

Even as Kisshu flashed his defiant, fanged grin at her in constant challenge, Lettuce could see the joy in his.

For a moment, she was frozen in the strange wonder of it. In the next, she felt her hand gently rise to lie against her heart as a sincere smile lit her face.

Heck, they even seemed closer now then before. Somehow… had something…?

_Those two…_

It was unbelievable, but there it was, right in front of her.

It confused her, even disturbed her, but it also gave her the warmest feeling she had had in a long time.

But…

Pai's tone, his hard gaze, his stubborn loyalty to his cause… it all came back to her in one awful tsunami that swiftly robbed Lettuce of her delight. Her face fell, and even though Ichigo's focus was on Kisshu, the girl still managed to see that radical change in expression. It didn't suggest to her that anything was wrong; she was still too absorbed in her banter to think anything like that.

It did, however, bring her attention back to Lettuce and, consequently, back to thoughts of her recent absence. That was really all it took.

"Ne, Lettuce, you still haven't told me how it went!"

One panicky glance told her that there would be no avoiding it this time. That girl was so innocently eager in her curiosity, that any attempts to get out of an explanation would surely be met with more probing questions.

Not that it would matter. She'd have to tell her everything anyway.

And even if she didn't, it would all have to conclude somehow.

As she swallowed nervously, Lettuce tried to convince herself that it was for the best.

Perhaps that would have been easier if it hadn't been painfully obvious that the impending conversation carried the possibility of ruining this new harmony between the two.

Maybe it would have been easier.

As it was, Lettuce had to take a deep, calming breath before trusting her voice with words again.

"I-Ichigo-san… may I… could you come… to the other room…?"

It was a credit to Ichigo's habitually clueless nature that she did not recognize what was bothering her friend right away. Then again, she may have realized it, yet determinedly ignored it in an attempt to hang onto…well, just about _everything_ that had just happened.

Either way, she wore a puzzled expression on her face as she nodded and followed Lettuce out of the room.

The porpoise-girl glanced back only once, just to check Kisshu's reaction, and saw one thing immediately.

He was not ignorant, and he was not fooling himself.

That piercing look shone in the gold of his irises, and one moment of locking gazes with him made Lettuce shudder slightly.

He knew.

He knew exactly what had happened.

As Lettuce turned away with nervous anticipation etched into her soft features, Kisshu's gaze hardened, and he allowed himself to lean against the table with a barely audible grunt of grudging understanding. It was obvious to him that the girl had gone to see Pai. Why she had, he didn't know, and he didn't really care. All he could see was that whatever the older alien had done or said, it had agitated Lettuce greatly, and that meant it couldn't be good news for any of them.

_Pai… you bastard…_

Of _course_ Pai would have to ruin something. That seemed to be the older alien's damned _job_ lately.

After all, it was because of him that Kisshu had nearly lost his life…

"Dammit," he whispered softly through gritted teeth. No doubt… no doubt it had to do with Deep Blue.

With Deep Blue, the mission, the battles…

Only Pai could stand by those principles so stubbornly after all of this.

Only he could…

And _now_, when everything was going so well. _Now_, right after he had just _gotten_ to Ichigo, just made her _see_…

Kisshu let out an angry sigh, resolving to calm himself and await the girls' return.

In the meanwhile, he concentrated on hearing their conversation.

Granted, it wasn't the most gentlemanly thing to do, but those long ears weren't just for show, and he needed something other than his sudden surge of anger to focus on. The last thing he needed was to lose his temper now.

Thus, he settled into their conversation.

In the living room, Lettuce was trying not to squirm too much under Ichigo's gaze. The problem was, by now, the cat girl had figured out that the outcome of Lettuce's meeting was far from anything they could have hoped for, and her expression turned from curious to anxious.

"Lettuce…"

The porpoise-girl wrung her hands silently, staring at the ground before finally answering Ichigo in a soft, trembling tone.

"I'm sorry, Ichigo-san. I-I should have told you as soon as I came in, but I—"

"No, Lettuce."

The interruption was immediate, and it was obvious that Ichigo had known what her friend had been trying to do, how she had been reluctant to break it all…

Such a thing could only inspire gratitude. The cat-girl tried to give her friend a warm smile. In her anxiety, however, Lettuce missed that completely, and went on in frantic apology.

"I-I just… Ichigo-san… I didn't want to stop… to…t-to break the…"

"No."

This time, the negative was so firm, there was no missing it, and Lettuce froze, gaze on the other girl.

"We would… we'd have to face it eventually."

The conviction, the determination, the grudging, yet sincere acceptance in Ichigo's voice drove the tremor from Lettuce's, and she continued with new resolve.

"Y-you're right," the words came out soft at first, but as the girl met her friend's eyes, they grew stronger. "Absolutely right."

Ichigo's smile came easier now. She remembered, very clearly, Kisshu's exact words to her, and she knew that there was no way out of it now. Not after she had heard him say that. Not after she had listened to him speak of his world.

If there were going to be obstacles in the road ahead, they needed to be acknowledged. The girl nodded at Lettuce for her to continue.

It was as she went through his refusal to listen to her that Ichigo gave a soft, strangled sort of gasp, and Lettuce realized that the girl had her fists clenched, a wry sort of smile on her face.

"He… he realized it, then?"

For a moment, Lettuce couldn't grasp Ichigo's meaning, but a few seconds later, she found herself nodding slowly. Ichigo looked up at her, and Lettuce could see that the girl was already thinking about what would have to happen next.

"Ichigo…"

"It can't stay forever, can it? Pai knows it, we know it… there's no way. I mean, my _parents_ are coming back in a few days. There's no way he can stay any longer, even if… even if we didn't have to…" Her voice faded as she took to mimicking Lettuce's actions of a few moments ago, hands twisting together in quiet distress. She wished… after just a little while ago, she wished she could have more time to revel in this new closeness before having to face the rest of it.

Even though she knew it was time to decide how to act, where to go, what to say and think and do, she felt it was too soon.

Of course, how could she not? Who wouldn't want to remain in those moments of new love, discovery, surprising tenderness? Who wouldn't wish to keep afloat in this sea of warmth?

She couldn't, though. With Kisshu recovering, she would have to come to terms with his new role, with _her_ new role. They couldn't keep fighting, not after all of this. She had already gone over that with herself, and with him.

_How_?

How as she supposed to tell _Ryou_? With him, it wasn't even about the future of the battles, or their mission.

He'd lose his mind as soon as he learned what the girl had been doing for the last few days. As soon as "my house" and "Kisshu" crossed her lips, it would be the end. Ichigo hadn't the slightest inkling as to what to do about Ryou.

Ryou, and the rest of the Mew Mews…

Minto, Zakuro… their reactions could only mimic Shirogane's.

Dammit.

It was too much to bear, and yet it _still_ wasn't everything.

There was still Aoyama.

There was still that awful decision waiting to be made. Hell, between the wonder of seeing Kisshu in this new light and this new return to what it meant for the Mews, she had forgotten about her choice. She had forgotten that she'd have to make it, and now it looked as if she'd have to make it soon.

Gods, she'd give anything for a few more weeks, months, _years,_ of this last day of nearly carefree existence. Anything.

But she couldn't have that. It was impossible, and the more she realized that, the more it sank in, the weaker her control over her tears became. Thankfully, Lettuce was able to call her attention away from misery before they overflowed.

"Ichigo-san, I think we should tell him."

"T-tell him?"

Lettuce nodded, continuing slowly, quickly seeing how upset the cat-girl was becoming.

"Kisshu-san. I think… maybe we should discuss this with him."

For a moment, Ichigo wanted to say no.

She thought the same way Lettuce had when she had entered the house and found them in the kitchen; she _did not_ want to ruin it. She did not want to go into that room and tell this boy, this boy whom she had grown to love after his feelings had been fully revealed to her, that this had to end, and that she did not know what the future would bring, or if they even _had_ a future.

What would he say when she told him his companion was standing in their way now? How would he react to that? What if they were _made_ to fight? How could that sort of thing continue between them?

And how would he react if, in the end, she chose Aoyama?

He had said that he would be accepting, and maybe he would be. Maybe he really would be.

That didn't mean that she was eager to see the disappointment that she knew would cross his face as soon as the decision was made.

And there were so many other details to consider…

Even so, Ichigo nodded.

Even with all of these terrible thoughts plaguing her, she knew that Lettuce was right. The boy needed to know. They all had to work together now, no matter what the outcome would be.

At least, they had to work together to break the news to everyone else.

After that… Ichigo didn't want to dwell on it now.

"Hai… Lettuce. You're right." She bit the inside of her cheek for a moment, trying to gather her courage before turning around and walking back into the kitchen, a silent, somber Lettuce closely following.

She found it hard to say it, to tell him what Lettuce had just told her.

_No running. You have to face this. You have to see him and talk to him, and…_

"K-Kisshu, we—"

She would have struggled on, body unbearably stiff, eyes _again_ faintly misted over with tears of sheer frustration, hands trembling weakly at her sides, had he not given her so keen and knowing a look. His wordless gaze extinguished her words, and she fell into a surprised silence as _he_ began to speak.

"I heard, Ichigo."

The girl, momentarily taken aback, opened her mouth but failed to speak.

"You can yell at me for it later," he continued, a faint smile suddenly creeping into his features and disappearing just as quickly.

Ichigo didn't yell. In her shock, she could hardly understand what he was saying.

"You… you heard…?"

A nod.

"Yeah."

For a moment, silence reigned supreme. None of the three seemed to want to start the difficult conversation.

Finally, Kisshu opened his mouth to speak. However, Ichigo, in a burst of sudden courage and urgency mixed with her innate impulsiveness, cut him off before he could utter a syllable.

"I don't want it to change anything. What… what we talked about before…" here, Lettuce looked at her friend curiously, "it can't change, no matter what they say… Pai… or Ryou…"

Or Aoyama.

_Even if I…even if Aoyama…everyone… this world… I can't…just…_

As she trailed off, panting softly, the boy stared at her, eyes slightly widened in mild shock at her outburst. For a few seconds, Ichigo's breathing was the only sound filling the room.

Kisshu smiled.

It was a small smile; a wide grin would have been totally inappropriate, even for him, in this sort of situation, but even small, it helped bring a breath of relief to the girl.

"Of course, Ichigo."

Hearing her name spoken in that sincere, gentle tone made her heart flutter in spite of the conversation's focus.

Lettuce had no idea as to what they were talking about, but she could readily guess at it. Her thoughts centered around one basic idea: they had decided not to throw this new friendship (perhaps actual romance, if… well, that would be saved for later, Lettuce reminded herself) away, regardless of the rest of the world. She wished she could remain on those thoughts a little while long, concentrating on the sweet warmth they brought her, but she knew they had to push on. The girl broke the silence

She did it in the kindest, most apologetic tone the human voice could reasonably create.

"Ano…ano…perhaps we s-should…"

_She's right…_

Ichigo looked up, a faint smile lighting up her face as she met Kisshu's gaze, this time without that painful emotional tension. He looked back at her, and an unspoken agreement passed between them:

_Everything will be all right._

Breaking the silence yet again, Kisshu returned his focus to the dilemma at hand.

"So… you guys have any ideas?"

Both alien and cat-girl were surprised when Lettuce began.

Then again, she, being as concerned about reaching a truce as she was, had probably spent quite a bit of her spare time pondering matters such as these. Nevertheless, both blinked as the girl spoke, nervously toying with her fingers, but in a voice that had the same clear confidence present in Ichigo's declaration.

"I think we should tell the others. We can't keep th—" here she faltered, looking first at Ichigo, then at Kisshu, as if reminding herself of the exact _magnitude_ of what had been hidden. Swallowing, gently biting her bottom lip, she finished.

"We can't keep this a secret anymore."

At first, Ichigo wanted to release all of the anger, frustration, chilling fear she had felt in the past few days.

For a second, she wanted to launch into one of her famous rants, wanted to claim that no one had been keeping anything a secret, that this wasn't her fault, that there was no need to do anything…

But that was all stupid, and even though she wished it could be solved that simply, she knew better.

Yes, even the occasionally ditzy, impulsive, rash Momomiya Ichigo knew better.

She nodded somberly.

"Blondie isn't going to like this."

The girl, both girls, abruptly set their gazes on Kisshu, who looked back with a look of mixed amusement and severity on his pale face. As Ichigo's mind frantically tried to work the concept of _We have to tell Ryou soon_, Lettuce pressed on in a soft, nearly pleading voice.

"I-I'm sure, given time, that he'll accept it. He is not unreasonable. Shirogane-san—"

"—hates me, and my people."

"He doesn't… he just…"

Suddenly, Ichigo had a flashback of what Keiichiro had told her, not so long ago, about Ryou's childhood, his hardships, his inner mission…

She remembered exactly what a Chimera Anima had _done_ to him…

"It's not his fault, Kisshu."

The boy looked up at her, attention quickly diverted from the porpoise-girl, who gave Ichigo just as astonished a stare. He blinked at her, at the hard, yet oddly compassionate, glint in her eyes, before his frown softened only a touch, and he nodded.

He did it grudgingly; Ryou, being the founder of the Mew Project, was hardly one of Kisshu's favorite people, but the boy did remember one time, just one, where for a moment, the alien and the human seemed to have seen eye to eye…

Kisshu grunted softly to show Ichigo he understood. Then, he allowed a cynical half-grin to twist his lips.

"What's your excuse for Pai?"

_Pai-san_…

Lettuce found herself wringing her hands again at the mention of the older alien's name. It only brought back those feeling of despair, those discouraging images of only an hour or so ago. The stiff sound of his voice as he bid her a curt farewell rang in her mind, and she nearly flinched as Kisshu snorted, an exasperated response to Ichigo's blank, almost guilty stare.

_It's not his fault, either…it's not…_

All she could remember was the begging, pleading light in his eyes when he had asked her to take him to Kisshu, the relieved gratitude after he had given the girls the medicine they had needed, the way he had bowed to her, so skilled at hiding his concern, yet so obviously feeling it…

She remembered how he had turned from concerned friend to rigid, determined warrior as soon as he remembered his mission.

Remembered his people…

_God, it's still all the same…_

Shaking her head gently, Lettuce answered Kisshu with a gentle smile to counter his pessimism.

"The same."

Kisshu found himself staring smiling at the porpoise-girl.

The same.

Not his fault.

_Smart one_…

She couldn't know that she was echoing the basic feelings surrounding the conversation Ichigo and Kisshu had just had. Just repeating those concepts brought new hope to him.

They were true, those words.

True.

Simple.

So simple that… couldn't they be _it_?

Damn. He didn't know. He _wanted_ to know.

Now that he had his precious Ichigo's support, was it possible that there was a way to win this?

All he knew was that now, with her, he felt closer to relief.

So much closer, _infinitely_ closer, than he had felt when Deep Blue made his promises.

Those promises had echoed with an emptiness that had put Kisshu on guard the second the mission had begun. That wariness had always remained, pushed aside, ignored, as the mission, those memories, that great responsibility, reminded him of his duties.

It had resurfaced, and kept resurfacing, as he kept seeing this girl.

And soon he found that, while Deep Blue strengthened his wariness, Ichigo calmed him, satisfied him, somehow. The only problem had been the constant rejection.

Now, that rejection was gone. Now, she looked at him without the anger in her eyes.

And now, he was absolutely certain that the right path lay behind those shining eyes, lay with that girl and her dear companions.

"It won't be easy." A sigh, not of melancholy, but of firm, graceful acceptance.

"No, but…"

Those eyes…

"When do we start?"

"As soon as you're totally better."

"I _am_ totally be—"

It would have sounded much more convincing if dear Mr. Cough hadn't decided right then to send his greetings.

"If you want to go outside _now_, you're going out wearing the puffiest jacket I have, _just_ for Shirogane! You got that?"

Ichigo glared with renewed severity.

Kisshu pouted.

Lettuce giggled.

Well, perhaps they still had until Ichigo's parents returned.

At least that cough was good for _something_.

* * *

He was… concerned. 

Not afraid, of course, because there was no real reason for true fear.

Not yet.

It was only concern, because things were not going quick as planned. Everything had slowed. Something was… amiss.

He had ignored the first disturbance; the green-haired rebellious nature had taken hold of him, and the resulting failure had been unfortunate. Still, getting rid of that boy should have been the solution to the problem.

Why, then, had the two remaining faithfuls not brought him results?

At first, he had thought the cause to be emotional; the three had, after all, grown rather close.

But it shouldn't have lasted this long. The green-haired should have died, and the other two should have moved on. They should have at least taken their duty to their home as a greater priority over mourning.

The fact that hardly any work had been done, no progress achieved…

He had expected the eldest to, at the very least, devise another strategy, but there had been nothing. Nothing but a pitiful attack with substandard beasts.

That was probably when suspicions began to populate His mind.

After a few days of these suspicions, He came to a conclusion.

In order to test it, he needed the eldest. Of course, the eldest came when called. He was a good boy, a good puppet.

"Yes, Deep Blue-sama?"

He heard it only because He was listening for it with all his power.

There it was: a minute tinge of anxiety, wariness, uncertainty, in that bass voice.

"What is your current progress?"

This time, there was a vague, hardly-existent stutter. Again, He heard it only because he had suspected it.

The boy never got far with his report. The echoing voice stopped him.

"I know what is happening."

His suspicions were now confirmed. That traitor was alive. He was alive, and with the enemy. With the humans.

How He could tell this, even He himself could not fully say. Granted, he had known that medication had been taken from the alternate dimension the day before, but had had not thought much of such a trivial detail. Only when the suspicions arose did he make use of that knowledge.

Even so, it had proven correct. Now, He could see the answer in the boy's violet eyes.

"Have you forgotten the purpose of this mission?"

"No, Deep Blue-sama! I—"

He had to scare him now. It was the only way. This one had to remain loyal. The traitor was gone, the youngest questionable, but this one was till vulnerable. This one had to remain.

If he did not, then the plan would be ruined. He would never have His world again, and He needed His world. He needed what was rightfully His.

Thus, He began to work His words upon the elder.

"I will forgive all, even him, if you bring him back. This contact with the humans must stop immediately if you are to save your people. I will forgive you _and_ him, if you right this immediately. Is this understood?"

There was a much more noticeable tremor in the boy's voice, probably because of the mention of his kind.

"Hai."

"Then you are excused."

The boy vanished. Before he did, He noticed that look of firm determination replace the anxiety in his eyes.

Foolish boy.

So easy to manipulate because of those worthless feelings.

So simple.

How lucky.

Now, all He would have to do was wait. Soon, it would all fall back into place.

_This world will be mine…_

* * *

AN: Mmmm.. sorta-cliffie. Hehe. My first try at DB. Joyous. Ah well, hope you guys enjoyed. I won't even say anything about how long the next chappie will have, for fear of jinxing the time again :P. Read, review, and good night! 


	19. Chapter 19

AN: All right, this has to be short, cuz my vision's blurring over here, and that really does feel quite odd.

First, my excuse for the abominably long wait is the fact that I was in Canada, with no computer or anime access, for a full week on a family vacation. If you want to know how it was, I'll give you the basic summary: it sucked. Period. I was TMM deprived, fanfiction deprived, and forced to spend a week in close contact with my parents. Not good. Traumatizing. I'm going to have to rewatch the entirety of the TMM series as therapy.

And now to replies, though they'll be short today. Sorry, but I'm getting less than five hours of sleep tonight as it is XD.

AKC: Just wanted to reinforce the fact that you rock amazingly!

SLTC: Okay, so maybe you do update less. Makes me feel better :P… but go update! I need to know what happens in Unfair With a Bunny…

isa18: Nya! I've missed you! Hope you're feeling better.

Phantom: Oh, you were behind the three longest chappies… but this one is EVEN LONGER!

Dust-in: Ah, my P/L friend. Just wait till I decide to write the sequel…

Snowbluerat: I remember having an explanation for the confusion I've caused you, but I'm too tired to write it here :P. Eck.. if I figure it out, I'll PM. Anyway, thanks for your review, as always.

TigerLilly101: Awww. I feel the love :D. Thanks. And yea, I have this entire Aoyama-Kisshu analysis thing, and I could rant on and on. I probably will, in an English journal in school. I think my teacher would find it funny.

BalckWingedGabriel: Ack. If you were in despair before, I shudder to think what I did to you this time. Sorry!

Heth: Your wish is my command ;D

Sakura: I rethreaten you with a rusty spork... go update!

Saint X: I should probably put a fluff warning on this sucker, eh? You know, the funny thing is that in real life, I'm really not a fluffy person. I like gore, and violent themes, and I'm actually kinda… not nice to people :P. The fact that I'm this fluffy, and it _is_ fluffy, here is very strange for me. But yea, to each his/her own. And I'll be sure to check out your fic soon. I mean, as long as there's K/I… :P

And now we move on to the chappie. It's the longest so far, so be happy, even if it did take a long time to get out. Goodness knows we have no clue when the next will come :D

Disclaimer: No TMM ownage here. I wish. I sooo wish. Then I could glomp Kisshu all I want.

* * *

They would go tomorrow. 

Kisshu sighed as he turned over, his nearly-mended wound still coaxing a delicate wince from him as he did so, and lay on his back, one hand underneath his head, the other absentmindedly toying with a button on his nightshirt. Staring up at the ceiling, he could not help dwelling on that thought.

Ichigo's parents would return tomorrow night. That meant that they had to go to Café Mew Mew sometime during the morning, or the afternoon.

Personally, the boy preferred waiting until as far into the afternoon as possible.

Or, better yet, not going at all. Yeah. That looked really good right about now.

Honestly, though he loathed admitting it, Kisshu was nervous about tomorrow.

Of course, who could blame him?

Granted, over the past few days, he had gotten farther into a relationship with Ichigo than he had ever dreamed possible.

Granted, he had received a gentle acceptance from Lettuce.

Those two facts did nothing to lessen the severity with which he _knew_ Ryou Shirogane would approach the situation.

The boy knew that there would be cursing, yelling, screaming, threats, and anguish from _both_ sides, and he was not looking forward to it at all.

_Hell_ no.

And even if they got over _that_ glaring obstacle, there would be so much to sort through afterwards, so much that he just didn't want to think about right now…

But he had to think about it. He had to remember his family, his friends, his reason for _being_ here. That would not just vanish because he wished he could focus more on what happiness he had felt with Ichigo rather than minding his obligations.

Still, he wished it would. He wished he could live in the world of that last couple of days forever.

Thinking back to that, he grinned in spite of the worry.

They had been a wonderful two days.

As each day had passed, the alien and the girl only grew closer, and the funniest, yet most telling part about it was that neither had done much to change their usual behavior. Kisshu still flashed his cheeky smirks and happily suggested the girl snuggle up in his lap while they watched some random movie, or give him a thank-you kiss for washing the dishes, and Ichigo still responded with a well-aimed clout to the head or a loud, snappy huff.

The only difference now was that she did it with a glint of amusement in her eyes, a quiet, private acknowledgment of his affection.

And then, she'd give her own response to his mischievous suggestions:

As they had watched the movie, she had (and Kisshu knew this was not his wishful thinking, because he had seen Lettuce hide a gentle smile behind her hand) scooted over to sit closer to him in the dark.

While washing the plates and cups, he had seen Ichigo vainly try to hide her smile before reminding him to stack the dishes carefully.

Those memories and dozens more now served to widen Kisshu's grin as he relaxed against the guest room pillow.

Ah, yes. Even the memory of _that_ little argument brought him amusement.

The cat-girl had vehemently insisted that (and this was right after she had attempted to sleep in her sleeping bag instead of, as he had i_nnocently_ suggested, happily cuddling up against him in her bed) since he was well, it was time for him to move into his own room. After his response (a half-whining "but we were so _comfortable_ together" accompanied by the classic puppy-dog eyes) earned him a swift pillow-smack, it was decided that Lettuce would sleep in Ichigo's room on an air mattress the girl had pulled out of the closet, Ichigo would return to her own bed, and Kisshu would take the guest bedroom.

And, obviously, those were the exact sleeping arrangements that had been used for the last two nights, yet even this had its metaphorical silver lining, its little catch that proved the difference in current circumstances.

First, there was the fact that Ichigo blushed through the whole ordeal.

Second, she always came in before his lights went out. Now, the girl made sure, without fail, to do something while in his room, something trivial, like retrieving some random trinket from the dresser drawer or playing around with the blinds, muttering something about making sure the neighbors didn't think the Momomiya family had suddenly decided to harbor pointy-eared weirdoes after glancing out the window at an inopportune moment. Either way, she always exited with the same words, uttered with the same softness, in a tone that made him grin into the darkness after she left:

"Good night, Kisshu."

The boy closed his eyes as the memories played through over and over.

_Damn_, but he didn't want to leave…

With a short, derisive laugh, he opened his eyes again.

There was no choice, and that was that.

_This has to end…_

No choice, but at least now, he had—

"Oi, Kisshu!"

Heh. Ichigo.

The alien sat up, wistfulness fleeing from his expression as he watched her, a smile settling in its place.

"R—"

He was going to comment on her punctuality (perhaps she'd blush again and give him another reason to chuckle), but she interrupted quickly.

"You left these in the bathroom."

She held up his hair bands, which, of course, conveniently served as this evening's reason for entry. The boy blinked, then cocked his head to the side and answered with a hint of bemusement in his voice instead of the usual teasing. It occurred to him that something seemed slightly off…

"Oh… yeah, thanks. But you know I sleep without those, koneko-chan." He brushed some loose hair back behind an ear, unconsciously accentuating the statement, all the while watching the girl carefully.

Ichigo seemed to ignore that as she walked over to the night table and dropped the bands onto its cream-colored surface.

Right way, the boy saw that today she had not just come in for the customary mock-offhand good-night. There was uneasiness in her eyes that struck him particularly hard.

That was probably because it was the same feeling he had just been struggling with.

Sure enough, instead of plunging into random action and conversation, the girl sat down on the edge of the bed, hands dropping into her lap, eyes steadfastly focusing on them as the forced nonchalance vanished from her countenance.

She had never been too skilled at hiding emotions, and as Kisshu leaned forward, wrapping an arm around his knees, he peered into her face.

"Ichigo? What's…?"

To his surprise, she wasted absolutely no time in getting to her point. There were no smiles, no attempts at steering the talk away from it, no trying to mask the trembling of her voice. It told him only one thing: she was afraid, and she _meant_ it.

"I was thinking about tomorrow."

Ah. She was starting out small, still staring at her hands, voice quiet and small. He knew she'd work up to it, knew that the so-called "snowball effect" would soon take hold, and he waited in silence, a gentle, supportive silence that he felt was needed to remedy her distress.

"Kisshu, I just wanted to… I want to tell you that no matter what happens, I… I meant what I said, before…" Now she finally looked up at him.

"No matter what Ryou says…" here, just by saying that boy's name, she seemed to somehow imagine, envision, the terrible possibilities of tomorrow, and her lips began to tremble.

"And I know what he'll say… it won't be… h-he…"

Kisshu had known that he had been worried, underneath his cheerful exterior, during the past two days, and he had known that Ichigo must have been worried, too. What he hadn't known was that she had managed to work herself up into this sort of nervous frenzy.

Well, there was only one thing he could do about it now, and it was something that he was quite happy to do.

Pulling himself forward to kneel beside her, he hugged her. He hugged her like he had the last time she had lost her nerve, with the same reassurance, the same acceptance, and the same loving grip that had managed to quiet her before.

It was the same gesture that had quieted him when he had been suffering all those nights ago.

"I thought we agreed to worry about that when we came to it."

She sniffled, but relaxed at the sound of his voice. Her voice came a bit steadier.

"But we're almost there…" to his surprise, she giggled a bit, whether in relief or slight hysteria, he couldn't guess. Then, she sighed wistfully. "How can you be so calm about it?"

This time, it was his turn to chuckle as he reached up to pull his fingers through her hair, gently stroking her before resting his forehead against the top of her head, privately enjoying her hair's sleek softness. A moment later, he answered.

"If it makes you feel any better, I'm not exactly thrilled about it, either." His words weren't particularly revealing, but he made sure his tone got his point across: his feelings echoed hers.

This time, her laugh was stronger.

"You know what? It does."

How wonderfully ironic. It coaxed a smile from him.

_Silly little koneko-chan…_

"Well, I'm glad my discomfort makes you happy, koneko-chan."

That, coupled with his grin, had the desired effect.

Ichigo began to laugh outright now, putting a hand to her mouth in an effort to curb herself as Kisshu let her go, watching her with a humored glint in his eyes. After a few seconds, she stopped, staring into space for a couple of heartbeats before suddenly turning back to him, eyes sparkling with a new playfulness, leaning in, and giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

The action brought a jolt of shock to the alien (whose first though happened to be, _Isn't that _my_ job?_), but it only made Ichigo grin wider.

Her reason was dead simple: she had walked into that room feeling shaken and frightened, and this boy had effortlessly made her laugh in the face of all of it. He had taken that terror and turned it upside down so swiftly, so gently, that it had surprised her, just another surprise to add to all of those pleasant shocks she had had over the past two days, shocks regarding how sweet and funny and wonderful he could be.

It was just another surprise, but it was so heartening, that she felt it worthy of that peck.

And she rather liked the way he blinked confusedly back at her as she rose and walked to the door.

"Good night, Kisshu."

A second later, she was gone, and Kisshu was left gaping at the door. Silence reigned for a few more seconds before the boy broke the spell with a frown and soft sigh.

"Huh," he murmured, looking down at the bed, eyes landing on the spot next to him, the spot where a second body could go.

"I should've asked her to stay."

By the end of the sentence, he was grinning, and he erupted into laughter a moment later as he lay down. The laughter had diminished into a soft snickering by the time he turned out the light, and he quieted as he turned over to sleep.

Only one thought remained as he drifted off:

_Damn, I love her._

* * *

He awoke to darkness. 

That told him that the clock's alarm hadn't broken his slumber; it'd be daylight if it had.

The culprit became known very quickly.

As he lay wondering, he felt a light poke in his shoulder. Shrugging slowly, he tried to ignore it, only to feel it again, just a bit sharper this time.

Still, he strove to fall back to sleep.

Now the poke landed on his side, where he was actually rather ticklish, getting a quick jerk, along with a soft "nyugh" from him.

"Kisshu?"

That voice…

Before another poke could occur, he turned over, only to see—

"Gah!" He rolled over backwards as quickly as he could, and it was only due to his tangling himself up in the sheets and immobilizing himself that he didn't roll back far enough to fall off the bed.

Normally, he'd try to react with more grace than this, but coming literally face to face with a wide-eyed Taruto while being in an only partially-awake state was asking even Kisshu just a bit much. He had to stare at the younger alien for a few seconds before calming down enough to realize who was staring back.

"Taruto!" Quickly untangling himself, he sat up, blinking at his companion. "What're yo—"

At that precise moment, Kisshu learned exactly how fast and hard Taruto could attach himself to and squeeze another. The older boy found himself abruptly unable to breathe.

His first conscious thought was that this was extremely odd. After all, Taruto normally balked at any contact that even suggested affection or hinted at his still being a kid. Gods forbid Kisshu try to ruffle his hair or snicker at him while he was being immature and bratty.

Hugs rather fell into this category.

What he didn't happen to think of was that it had been days since his younger friend had seen him, and the last time he had had involved the green-haired alien being in the worst condition of his life.

That hug was the only way Taruto could quietly express his incredible relief. His friend was _alive_. The last time he had seen him, he had been covered in blood, barely breathing, hardly lucid, trembling and raving and stumbling and gasping, and now he was _alive_, and he looked perfectly healthy.

All of that worry, that fear that had remained even after Pai had insisted that Kisshu was fine, all of that sick terror had dissolved when the young alien had teleported into the room and seen his companion peacefully asleep.

The relief was _overwhelming_.

Unfortunately, Kisshu didn't really think about any of this.

All he managed to think of was that Taruto's shoulder was pressing _right_ into his injury, which, while mostly healed, still managed to hurt a good deal when pressure was applied.

And Taruto was applying a hell of a lot of pressure.

"Oi… midget… get _off_!"

Luckily, that seemed to snap Taruto back into his senses.

Also luckily, the mock-insult drove away any uneasy thoughts about his overly-affectionate gesture, and any awkwardness that might have resulted was swiftly destroyed by Taruto pouting at his friend.

"I'm _not_ a midget!"

"Yeah, right…" Kisshu growled, rubbing his shoulder gingerly as he glared down at Taruto. Soon, however, that glare softened as the boy realized that he actually _was_ rather glad to see the younger one.

"So, what're you doing here?"

Oddly, the question seemed to catch Taruto by surprise, but he recovered quickly, giving Kisshu a small grin.

"I came to see if that old hag was treating you right!"

This brought a snort from Kisshu, who couldn't help feeling a stroke of amusement even as he frowned at the comment.

"Well, obviously _Ichigo's_ treating me just _fine_, you li—"

"Hey, did you guys really sleep together? Why aren't you together now?"

Trust the little brat to "innocently" touch upon the one thing that would normally make Kisshu rather proud but, said in the disbelieving, infinitely curious tone that only a child could pull off, now made him sputter.

Stupid little… and judging by his grin, he had probably been waiting to tease about that for a while, and Kisshu didn't even _know_ how the younger one had managed to get that information.

He barely restrained himself from smacking the boy upside the head in an attempt to find his composure as Taruto gave a little chuckle before sensing that he should really move the conversation along. This inevitably led to a softer tone of voice as his attention turned to a more sobering topic.

"So…uh…you're really okay?"

Kisshu's annoyance immediately dissipated, and he allowed himself a small smile in the darkness.

"Yeah."

_Heh. That's all he came for, just to see if I'm okay? Stupid little…_

But in reality, he was pleased, even somewhat touched, if he could admit to it, that Taruto had actually come by to visit. He hadn't really thought about the little alien during his time at Ichigo's, but now that the boy stood before him, he realized that he _had_ missed him (even if he seemed to be the bratty, whiny spawn of the _devil_ at times…especially times involving teasing Kisshu about his human infatuation).

Annoying though he could be, Taruto made a fine companion when he felt like it.

_Like now_, Kisshu supposed, suppressing a short laugh at the thought. Then, trying to break the somewhat awkward silence that was quickly settling over them, and a slightly uncomfortable look that was settling into Taruto's little face (perhaps he was feeling a bit nervous about being in the cat-girl's house?), he opened his mouth to continue.

Taruto, however, beat him to it, and what burst out of his mouth made Kisshu's blood momentarily freeze dead cold in his veins.

"When're you coming home?"

All right. So maybe the younger boy wasn't exactly worried about being in a Mew Mew's house. Maybe he was more concerned about what would happen when he asked _that_ question.

And rightfully so.

Kisshu stiffened, eyes unconsciously narrowing as his words died in his throat.

It was strange, actually, the feeling he was experiencing now. He had expected some anger at the boy for asking this, maybe some anger at Pai, who wasn't even here, but who could be somewhat blamed for much of this ordeal.

And definitely _fury_ at the thought of going back to the place where Deep Blue, that creature that had sentenced him to die, to leave the only two people who could care for him and wander the streets until death decided to claim him.

And yet… all he found himself feeling was an echo of the nauseating worry that he and Ichigo had both had to deal with.

He grunted softly, and Taruto waited tensely for some sort of comprehendible response.

After a few moments, Kisshu sighed.

"I—"

Amazingly, that was as far as he needed to go. Taruto was a quick little boy. His reaction was instantaneous.

"But you have to come back! Pai's—"

At that name, Kisshu immediately darkened, though just a bit, and the sudden change stealing Taruto's voice as the younger boy choked at the sight.

"What _about_ Pai?"

For a few seconds, Taruto kept his mouth firmly shut, sudden fear at Kisshu's reaction, even though it was somewhat expected, flooding his mind. As the other boy maintained his glare, however, the young alien's defenses began to break, and he suddenly blurted out all that had been worrying him for the past two days.

"He said… he said that you can come back! He said that Deep Blue will let you, and that everything would be fine, and that he would forgive us, and—," he took a shaking breath, "—and we can go back to how everything was! Isn't that great?"

Somehow, he managed to smile at the still-staring Kisshu. With all of that desperation, that gut-wrenching nausea flowing through him as he readied himself to fairly beg the other boy to return life back to normal, he still managed a smile.

"Come on… we can go right now! I can help you teleport, if you can't—"

Now Kisshu did something that made Taruto stiffen in utter shock.

He didn't yell. He didn't hit him. He didn't even growl.

He just placed a steadying hand on Taruto's head and bent down to look the younger boy directly in the eyes. Taruto quieted instantly.

"Taruto. I'm not leaving."

At those words, something within the younger alien seemed to snap, and he jerked away from Kisshu's hand.

"So that's how it is? You're just going to abandon us and go with that old hag? Yo—"

"You mean like Deep Blue abandoned me?" He hadn't meant to say it, not at all, now seeing the hurt looks flash across Taruto's face; it had just slipped out, soft and strangely unassuming, the first thing his mind conjured in response to those particular words. He felt a tinge of true regret as the remark only led to Taruto's voice trembling just a bit more.

"But you know we didn't… and it's okay now! If you come back, it'll all be…"

It really wasn't like Taruto to loose his nerve so quickly, and as Kisshu watched the boy trail off, eyes shining with what Kisshu realized, with a mild shock, were desperate tears in the darkness.

He was _scared_, Kisshu thought to himself, scared in a way Kisshu hadn't thought possible.

So Deep Blue knew about his whereabouts, about Ichigo taking care of him.

What was going on, now that he had that knowledge? What in the world had he told Pai, and what had Pai told Taruto? What could the older alien and that creature be planning?

The only thing Kisshu could guess was that Deep Blue had decided that all would be forgiven if he came back, but if he didn't…

One look at Taruto confirmed that. Somehow, without any words, any real answer, Kisshu knew that Deep Blue had suggested that the mission, and chance for success, their people's _survival_, would crumble if he did not return.

That certainly explained Taruto's utter desperation.

Under normal circumstances, perhaps even if the two had met somewhere outside, Taruto's distress might have urged Kisshu to return. It might have.

Here, however, here in the guest bedroom, Kisshu could feel the soft mattress under him, the cool sheets against his skin, the pillowcase grazing his hand, all sensations that brought back memories of his nights here, nights spent in illness, but nights spent in true security that he would _never_ forget.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his own reflection in the mirror, and that reminded him of his little in-game cheating, of the many little instances of silly humor that had occurred in this house.

And next to him, sitting quietly on the night table, he could see his hair bands, and he knew that a few hours ago, they had been in Ichigo's hands, had felt Ichigo's touch, just as he had felt it so many times now, so many tender, exciting, amazing times…

That last thought set his determination, really _finalized_ it, and he broke the silence in a soft, but firm, voice, a voice ringing with a steady gentleness that Taruto had never seen in him before.

"We're going to the café tomorrow, to see that Ryou guy." Taruto looked up at him in unabashed surprise. "It's already been decided."

"But…" Taruto whispered, finally finding his voice, "…but you _can't_. Deep Blue said…"

This time, Kisshu didn't lose control or hesitate. If anything, his voice was at the calmest that Taruto had ever heard it.

"Forget what he said. Taruto, have we gotten _anywhere_, anywhere really, listening to him? Have we—"

"That's just because—!"

Kisshu had to recapture the other boy's gaze to silence him before continuing. As he did so, Taruto softly choked on his words, sensing suddenly, that he was _wrong_, that there was something wrong with what he was saying…

"We can't keep doing this, Taruto." The determination began to creep into his voice, and Taruto began to hear the passionate inflection of tone that Kisshu was so known for. "And not even because it's not working, but because..."

Suddenly, he smiled.

The memory of Taruto and Mew Pudding, rolling around on a rooftop, each wrestling the other for a worthless gem, each growling and pushing and shoving, but neither doing much to actually hurt the other, neither really engaging in a true fight, had abruptly, for no real discernable reason, flashed through his mind.

And suddenly, Taruto seemed to get the same image, because, unnoticed by Kisshu in the dark, he blushed lightly, gaze dropping to the ground. It was at this point that Kisshu realized that he didn't have to work so hard to convince right now.

He went on.

"Ichigo and Lettuce, that fish-girl, are going to talk to that guy tomorrow, and I'm going with them. We…" he paused, taking another breath, as if gathering strength to finally say the words that epitomized it all, "we think there must be a better way."

After that sentence, neither boy said anything for what seemed the longest time, yet as that silence wore on, as Taruto began to really think about what Kisshu had just said…

He was the one to speak first.

"Fine. Do… do what you want." His voice was so quiet, it was almost inaudible. His words made Kisshu hesitate slightly, almost made him speak up again, try to justify his meaning more, but Taruto went on.

"Just… I can't… I... Pai…"

Damn _Pai_, Kisshu mentally snarled, even while giving Taruto what he hoped was a sympathetic look.

"Listen," he began, reaching out and touching Taruto on his shoulder to grab his attention, "it doesn't matter. Just don't tell Pai about where we're going tomorrow, and keep out of it. Just keep out of it, and you'll be fine."

Judging by the mournful look in Taruto's eyes, he wasn't quite in agreement.

"Kisshu… I think… I think they might already know about it. I think Pai knows…"

Well, strike the first part of the request, then. Kisshu frowned at the possibility, but accepted it just as quickly. Nothing could be done about that. He'd just have to remind the girls to be even more careful tomorrow.

"Then just stay away. You understand? Until it's safe. Then…"

Then, they'd figure out what to do. After the coming disaster of tomorrow had been dealt with, they would decide about Taruto.

And about Pai.

_Pai…_

For now, Kisshu could only give Taruto a light shake to get the boy to look up at him.

"You get it?"

Finally, a slow, silent nod; the hint of urgency in Kisshu's voice seemed to have gotten through to his companion.

Kisshu let out a breath and leaned back, relaxing.

"Good."

Taruto, though silent for a few seconds, was by no means done. Though his tone was soft, his words held a heavy gravity that made Kisshu listen, really _listen_.

"N-ne, Kisshu… just… promise you'll be okay. You… you _and_ Pai. A-all right?"

The green-haired boy blinked.

_He really… heh. Dumb kid._

But he smiled as he reached out and ruffled Taruto's hair.

"Yeah. Sure, midget."

But still…_Pai_…

Then, just like that, the tension was gone. With a swift jerk, Taruto pulled away from Kisshu's outstretched hand, scowling at him.

Scowling, but with a softened, relaxed expression.

There was a happier light in his brown eyes.

"I told you to stop _calling_ me that!"

Kisshu smirked.

"But "shorty" is fine, right?"

Even Taruto had to allow a slight grin at his friend's cheekiness. After all, he had missed it, had missed Kisshu's teasing, every annoying bit of it. Shame that he had to leave so soon…

But now that he thought more about it, they would both be safer if he left. No need to let Pai in on the fact that he was here.

The eldest had already made it quite clear that he would occupy himself with getting Kisshu to return. Still, Taruto had hoped that his visit would reach his friend faster than any of Pai's future attempts.

Strange, how glad he was that it hadn't.

In spite of the danger he knew would soon arise, the danger that was silently brewing now, this felt bizarrely _right_, leaving Kisshu with these Mew Mews, leaving him and trusting them to do what was necessary.

It felt right, because Taruto knew that Kisshu had been right in saying that it wasn't working.

What they had been doing until now was wrong. If these girls had taken care of the alien for almost a week now, saved him when his own friends were powerless, then it _had_ to be wrong.

"So, is shorty going to let me get some sleep?"

Taruto left his thoughts to look back up at Kisshu, who was watching him with a clever half-smirk, obviously expecting a reaction.

But not only that. Taruto quickly saw that he was serious underneath that quip, and that was perfectly logical. The sooner the young one left, the better.

"Ha! Like I'd _want_ to stay in the old hag's house!"

Before Kisshu could respond (probably with some Ichigo-defending retort), Taruto was gone.

The boy snorted and turned over, turning the lights back off and pulling the covers back over himself.

A smile, small, slightly uncertain, but still _there_, played on his lips as he fell back asleep.

* * *

The next morning, Ichigo and Lettuce allowed Kisshu to sleep in while they ate breakfast in the kitchen. 

Of course, Lettuce had had to gently talk the other girl into doing that; Ichigo couldn't understand why the lazy alien couldn't drag himself out of bed and have the manners to join them for breakfast.

Actually, Lettuce didn't really know, either. She just had a feeling; at some point during the night, she remembered waking up and thinking she heard voices coming from the other room.

Well, it could have been her imagination. Probably was.

But she still felt that Kisshu could use a little extra sleep. Just because.

Thus, she kept Ichigo from climbing back up the stairs until 11:30. After that, the cat-girl could be held back no longer and all but bounded up the stairs, grumbling something about how lazy Kisshu would get along _wonderfully_ with lazy Ryou; they'd both make her clean the café all alone.

Lettuce watched her retreating back with an inevitable smile.

Funny, how she considered those complaints actually thinking positively.

Upstairs, Ichigo softly knocked on Kisshu's door, waited for barely a second, then fairly pounded it.

"Oi! Are you awake _yet?_"

Well, if he hadn't been, he certainly should have been _now_.

Why then, did she get no answer?

Growling, Ichigo decided that it was time for her to brave uninvited entrance into the room; it wasn't like they had time to waste, anyway.

Taking a steadying breath, she turned the knob and pushed the door open, ready to give the alien another good yell…

…only to find the bed empty.

Empty, and actually very neatly made.

"Nya?" she murmured, walking slowly into the room and gaping around.

Obvious question: where, oh where had the little alien gone?

Her confusion soon turned to annoyance, however, as Kisshu remained elusive.

"Mou…" she growled, hands quickly clenching into fists, "if you're already up, then get out here and come downstairs for breakfast! We don't have time for your stupid little—"

Instead of ending in "games," her sentence was punctuated with a loud, piercing shriek.

As she had been talking, she had suddenly felt a light, gentle breath against her neck. That in itself was somewhat tolerable, but the intentionally-loud "morning, koneko-chan!" accompanied by a poke _right_ into the most ticklish spot in her side was definitely _not_.

Whirling around, blushing furiously, she came face to face with a grinning Kisshu.

"You… what…how'd you..."

She seemed unable to form a complete sentence, so Kisshu did it for her.

"I was just practicing my teleporting, Ichigo-chan." His innocent tone did nothing to alleviate her annoyance. Actually, he wasn't lying. For the past few days, he had still been too weak to teleport; even just levitating for extended periods of time had left him disturbingly drained

"I mean, I haven't been able to for a while, so—" he attempted to continue, only to be cut off by the girl as she snorted.

"Baka. You can practice later, when we don't have somewhere to _be_."

A moment later, they exited the room, Kisshu following a still-scowling Ichigo.

Well, on the outside, she was scowling. On the inside, she was desperately trying to keep that scowl from turning into a giggle and a swift return-poke (she had learned, at some point during the last few days, that he had almost the exact same ticklish spots she had, and she had gotten rather good and hitting them whenever she needed, or wanted, to). The memory of last night's quick little peck was hardly helping, though she was rather thankful that he had seemingly forgotten to mention it.

It was a good thing they managed to get to the kitchen quickly.

Ichigo didn't know how long she could resist those urges.

As soon as he sat down to eat, however, she managed to collect herself again, now resigned to filling him in on the day's plan.

It managed to sober her up very quickly.

In the span of a few minutes, she told him that Lettuce would arrive first, acting as something of a calming agent to the often-volatile blonde, taking him into one of the back rooms, sitting him down, and telling him the story herself.

Lettuce had actually volunteered, albeit nervously, to do this. Her logic was simple: out of the three of them, she seemed the most objective and removed (if the sweet girl could ever really seem that way), and it would probably be best if she broke the news to him as gently as possible before he had to see the evidence right before his eyes.

Then they would confront him, and then… well, only fate had the remainder of the plan under any control.

After that, they would deal with what came.

She jokingly suggested he get jumbo-sized ear plugs. He wrinkled his nose up in mock-disdain.

As he carried his bowl to the sink, he finally spoke.

"When exactly are we leaving?"

"Eh… in an hour. Lettuce already left to go check in with her parents before going to the café."

This was followed by some silence, then:

"So, whaddya wanna do?"

Ichigo blinked, suddenly very aware that she was alone with the alien in her house, while he was well, for the first time.

For a moment, she felt a jolt of hot embarrassment, a telltale heat flashing across her cheeks as she swiftly realized what this meant.

Then, as quick as it had come, it ebbed, leaving only a delicate pink painting her cheekbones as a sense of something like relief came to her.

She didn't mind, really.

No, she was rather glad that, before any catastrophes occurred, she could have some time alone with the boy.

And he, for all of his snide remarks, even those of just a few minutes ago, had that same calmness in his gaze.

"You want," she began, a shyness starting to grow within her, "to go sit?"

"For an hour?"

She felt her blush darken, but paid it no notice.

This was it: the last moments in this carefree world, with this strange, yet perfectly normal boy.

These were the last moments before she'd have to face the divisions her life had made, face the battle that loomed around them.

They were the last moments she had before she stepped into the outside world, where somewhere, Aoyama waited for her, where that ordeal patiently awaited its own trial.

And as she looked back at Kisshu, she knew that he was thinking the same thing. He saw this simple little hour the same way she did, with that same preciousness, with that same finality. That knowledge, possessed by both girl and boy, invited a wistful sort of affection to fall over the two as they stared at each other, each wanting to smile and cry and just _go back_.

All Ichigo could think about, suddenly, were those three simple words uttered what seemed like so long ago, in that tender, silky tone: "I love you."

All Kisshu could think about was that this was the last hour in which those words could rule unopposed.

And each was thinking what the other was thinking, and both of them knew the response that Ichigo was about to give as gentle, sad smiles crept into their faces:

"Yeah. An hour."

A few seconds later, they had settled on the living room sofa, and Kisshu had his arms loosely wrapped around the girl, who tentatively, then fully, relaxed against his good shoulder.

There were no jokes this time, none at all.

Not even Kisshu suggesting that she scoot over into his lap so his lips could have better access to her neck

It was the last hour for Ichigo to allow Kisshu's hair to tickle her forehead, the last hour she could lean back against him and listen to him breathe rhythmically with her, look up into his eyes and know that that look in them was his love for her, the love that had caused so much change…

It was the last hour before she had to take Ryou's inevitable outburst, face the cold reality of what would have to be done for both the human and the alien races.

It was the last hour before she had to go out into that world… that world where…

It was hard to believe that after all of this, she still hadn't decided about Aoyama.

Even though just a few minutes ago, Kisshu had been smart and playful, Ichigo exasperated and pouty, both embraced this quiet affection without hesitation.

They wanted none of it to go to waste.

And so Ichigo gently let the upcoming confrontation float away from her train of thought, and it was quickly joined by reminders of Aoyama.

Quickly.

Had she not been steadily focusing on feeling Kisshu's arm squeeze her just a little tighter, she would have been intrigued at how quickly she gave up those thoughts of her former dream-boy.

And what did that mean? What did it mean, that the idea of enjoying this time with the alien triumphed over her worry about the choosing so easily?

It seemed utterly _ridiculous_, that Aoyama could be dismissed so easily now, so surely…

And yet it would seem just as ridiculous if, after all that had happened, after all of the changes that she had experienced, all that she had learned, she spent this last precious hour anywhere but in Kisshu's secure embrace.

But if both seemed viable, if both seemed true, then which one…?

She didn't know. She didn't know, and she wasn't even thinking about it, because she was too busy following Kisshu's slender finger as it traced a delicate path down her arm.

Suddenly, as she was watching this happen, she received what felt like the greatest epiphany of her whole life.

She would never forget all of this.

It seemed strange, because she had already said this, both to Kisshu, and to herself. She had already insisted that she would never_ ever_ forget, and she had meant it, and it had meant a great deal to both of them.

Still, the thought hit her so hard, that for a moment, she found herself holding her breath.

From that night when she had found herself bound to help him, to all that time spent gently, tenderly, _lovingly_ comforting him, to those moments of startling realization, burning humiliation, beautiful discover and paralyzing sadness that had finally led to the confession that she knew should have come long before, Ichigo knew that none of this would ever be forgotten.

Not by her, by Kisshu, or even by Lettuce.

And…and her love, love that she could never again doubt existed, because she felt it so completely now, could never be forgotten or ignored or buried.

It was _done_.

Done, done, _done_, _never_ to be undone, no matter what happened…

"Kisshu…"

She shifted, lifted her head off of his shoulder to look at him, a sudden need to share this coming over her, only to see him giving her one of his rare soft smiles, one totally free of any hints of teasing or usual quirkiness.

"Me neither," he murmured, because he _knew_ what she was thinking, and all of those feelings raging away inside of her were in him, too.

And now Ichigo felt the same way she had last night, before giving him that light kiss: utterly thankful, without even thinking to hesitate, for those golden eyes gazing at her with a light so different from his usual impish look, that she knew him to be beyond sincere, beyond certain in how much he cared about her.

She knew that he would never forget, either, and that made realizing that they had about five minutes to get dressed so much easier.

"It's time to go," she ventured quietly, sitting up. That smile morphed into one of his wider grins as he chuckled softly, leaned in, and gave her a light peck on the her lips, returning last night's favor in his version of a spontaneous show of gratitude.

The girl blushed harder, realizing, after catching the sweetness shining through playfulness in his eyes, that it meant that she had just done for him what he had done for her last night.

"Lead the way," he answered, and so she did.

Still slightly pink under the boy's smile, which was steadily turning into a smirk as they left (for now, at least) that tender atmosphere behind, Ichigo swiftly began to collect the various items needed for their outside venture: jackets, gloves, shoes and the like, and within a few minutes, she was busy giving Kisshu his first lesson in proper winter dress.

Within those same minutes, his smirk dissolved into a collection of nervous "oi's" and uncharacteristic stammers as the girl, suddenly caught up in a spell of habitual, silly enthusiasm, busily wrapped random scarves around his neck, tucked his long ears into various hats, and threw each jacket on him at least once, if not twice. This wore on for some time before the boy managed to gain control back.

"Oi, Ichigo… I thought that the hard part was supposed to come later!" His half-teasing tone made her frown.

"If you think we're going out (she missed his grin widening at these words) with you _not_ wearing a—"

He chuckled. "Don't you think that I should put on _regular_ clothes first?"

Ah… she blinked, just noticing that he was still in _pajamas_.

The boy levitated back up the stairs snickering, a miffed cat-girl glaring angrily at his back.

And not so angrily. After all, he was doing a hell of a lot to erase the tension, and she actually managed to notice it.

It made her smile, even while she tapped her foot in childish impatience.

Five minutes later, the boy returned, clad in a simple black turtleneck and jeans, obviously from her father's wardrobe. She'd have to find a way to explain that later, that and the jacket and gloves she tossed him. They were her father's, too.

After a while, Kisshu finally stopped fiddling with the gloves, which he considered mildly uncomfortable, and stood before the girl, jacket slightly oversized, hands slightly hidden by too-long sleeves, but looking about as comfortable as could be expected for someone accustomed to running around with a bare midriff.

"I guess that's all right…" Ichigo murmured, looking the boy up and down with an examining air that, oddly enough, made Kisshu slightly uncomfortable. Suddenly, she smiled, putting the final bit of the outfit in its place.

With an unsuppressed giggle, she stood back to admire her handiwork.

Kisshu scowled at her, pout firmly in place, from under the jacket's hood.

"What? It covers your ears!"

And so it did.

"It makes me look like an idiot…"

Well… it did that, too.

"Then I guess you want the hat instead?" Ichigo smiled brightly, holding up a bright red hat, complete with pom-pom, that… let's just say that Kisshu didn't feel like having his head represent Christmas on this particular day.

He'd keep the hood.

"You owe me a kiss for this, you know that, don't you?"

"You _wish_."

He would have teleported behind her, hugged her again, taken her little challenge, but he knew he'd have to wait.

They had just had their moment of gentle tranquility; they'd have to work for their next.

The thought sobered him enough to compel him to answer with just a smirk, and Ichigo noticed this instantly. It ended up a silent reminder to get going, and she did so without wasting any more time, without giving fear any more chances to grab hold of them.

"Let's go," she said, with more cheer than she honestly felt, a too-large smile lighting up her face. With that, she walked over to the door, followed by the boy, grasped the doorknob in her slightly-trembling right hand, and…

…felt something gently squeeze her left.

She turned around only to meet Kisshu's golden eyes and, a half-blink later, his lips.

They pressed onto hers, warm, soft, not rough and aggressive like they were when he had first kissed her, the day they met, or even when he had, in the last few days, chanced to steal a playful kiss from her.

Now, they were as gentle and as tender as when he had…

And when she had…

He finally pulled back, that passion that she had come to expect from him shining in his eyes, his lips curling into a half-impish, half-wistful smile.

The boy didn't say anything, because he knew that she understood him exactly:

_Just one last time, ne?_

Ichigo didn't speak, either.

All she did was allow her lips to mirror his smile before giving his hand a return squeeze.

Last time?

_Maybe…maybe not._

That was all they needed to give them the strength to leave the house and begin their walk to Café Mew Mew.

To uncertainty.

They set off with a quiet conviction in their steps.

* * *

They were halfway there, according to Ichigo's borderline-neurotic attention to the street signs. 

They had been walking for the expected fifteen minutes, sometimes in silence, allowing worry and anxiety to slowly take hold of them, which only led to minutes of first nervous, then progressively easier conversation as they strove to calm each other down. It had been working rather well, and they were currently in the conversation part of the cycle, Ichigo trying to decide whether to be exasperated by the boy's apparent ignorance about flamingo lawn ornaments or amused by his attempts at easing tension, when the snickers died in Kisshu's throat, and the smirk slid off of his face.

The effect what much like a rabbit suddenly scenting a predator, and at first, Ichigo had the bizarre idea that either Ryou or, and this thought would have made her even more uneasy had she had the time to focus on it, Aoyama was lurking behind some tree or bush. That impression soon left her as logic strove to make its voice heard, and she turned to the boy.

"Kisshu? What's—?"

"Shh."

In all the time she had known him, he had only sounded so commanding, so urgent, once: when he had threatened her with death if she wouldn't take him as her love. It had been right before his collapse, the collapse that had started all of this.

It had been the only time when anger and desperation and terror had combined and made her afraid, both of him and… and _for_ him, she had later realized.

Now, the tension in the air echoed that moment. She obediently hushed, eyes widening in creeping fright as Kisshu suddenly looked to the skies. His own eyes widened as he gritted his teeth, fists clenching.

It was happening, as Taruto had suggested it would.

_He_ was here.

_Here_.

Now.

Kisshu felt three things at this moment: anger, a twinge of fear, and a near-desperate urgency to get the girl away from this area.

It was too late to do anything about the third one. He could already see the ripple in the air…

With the time left, he couldn't even force the girl into a clump of bushes.

Thus, Kisshu did the only thing he could.

"Stay here, don't talk, and be ready to fight or run."

She adopted a wide-eyed, confused look.

"But Kisshu—"

Too late. He was already levitating up quickly, so quickly that she couldn't even reach out and grab his hand in an attempt to stop him. Upwards he floated, towards…

Finally, Ichigo's human eyes saw what his alien ones had discerned precious seconds ago. She gasped.

He was no longer floating up to what seemed empty air.

He was moving to meet Pai.

_No…_

The eldest alien floated serenely (_deceptively, _Ichigo thought) above them, his steely purple-grey eyes following his companion's progress as Kisshu stopped level with him.

Neither wore a truly identifiable expression, though Kisshu looked as if he was trying to flash Pai his customary smirk. Whether he wanted to do this in order to give the other alien some idea of normalcy, or just to annoy him, Ichigo couldn't tell. Whichever it was, even under Pai's paralyzing gaze, the boy managed it. His fangs glinted in what dull sunlight was managing to shine through the sky's cloud cover before he gave a rather normal-sounding greeting:

"Hey, Pai."

He used his usual jovial tone, allowed the familiar spark of amused playfulness to glint in the deep gold of his eyes as he waited for the purple-haired alien to give him some sort of reply.

Whatever he did, though, however he acted, he already anticipated the other boy's reaction. Kisshu could sense danger. He had spent enough time with Pai to know when he was just being his usual, serious self, and when his demeanor was actually threatening and angry under his seriousness.

This time involved, unfortunately, the latter, and as Kisshu held the other's gaze, only one central thought ran through his mind.

The older alien was going to attack. Somehow, in some way, he was going to attack today, and Ichigo was standing right there, right there with no other Mew Mews to protect her…

Normally, he'd be all too happy to jump to her defense, but truthfully, as he beheld the boy before him, he became aware of the very important fact that Pai was in top physical condition, and seemed to be very determined in whatever he was about to do. Now, Kisshu had his own very large share of ego, but he wasn't about to kid himself. He had been severely ill, and while generally healthy and definitely well enough to get around, he was in no condition to engage in an arduous battle with Pai.

Still… he had to protect his precious koneko-chan, didn't he?

That thought firmly battling against his instinctive fear, Kisshu stood his ground.

Then, Pai did something rather unexpected.

He smiled.

It wasn't a big smile, or even a particularly warm one, but it caught the emerald-haired boy off-guard, and his nonchalant expression faltered for just a moment as the other, lifting his chin just slightly, giving Kisshu a somewhat imperious look, answered.

"You are looking better."

Trap. He was trying to lure him into a trap. He had to be, with that indiscernible glint in his eyes, with that strange smile, those deceptively tranquil words. Kisshu knew it.

But he didn't show that.

"Sure am," he grinned, "thanks to my koneko-chan."

In the corner of his eye, he could see Ichigo stiffen as she heard herself mentioned.

Before him, however, he saw something that concerned him more. Sure enough, as soon as he had mentioned the cat-girl, Pai's muscles had tensed. A new look, a crueler one, had crept into his slightly-narrowing eyes as the atmosphere took a sudden change for the worse.

Hold on… had he been trying something?

Kisshu blinked momentarily in slight confusion. In speaking normally, in giving that odd smile, had he been trying, perhaps, to win Kisshu over peacefully, trying to avoid this confrontation that the younger boy had expected from the moment he had seen the air ripple?

Perhaps…

But it didn't matter. Even if he had wanted to take Kisshu back peacefully, the boy couldn't, _wouldn't_, go. Pai's reaction to "koneko-chan" swiftly told him that his feeling about the humans, even after what Ichigo had done, what Lettuce had done, even right in front of him, had not changed.

No matter what the violet-haired alien's intentions had been, Kisshu knew he couldn't go along with them.

He had to stay with his Ichigo, no matter what might happen between them later on. Granted, Ryou might impose some sort of catastrophe upon them, or Aoyama… well, he didn't even want to consider Aoyama, but if he gave in now, if he had given in to Taruto last night, there would be no chance to see if their new-found love survived _any_ of that.

It was time to go.

"Well, if that's all, then I think Ichigo and I should get going. You're always telling me that punctuality is so important…"

Of course, no such luck.

The boy didn't even try to turn around; he knew he'd be stopped.

"Take those ridiculous things off, and come with me."

Damn. He hadn't been expecting something quite that harsh and abrupt, though.

A plan… he needed a plan…

So, he stalled.

"Aww… but Pai, they're so warm and—"

Behind and below the aliens, Ichigo was beginning to tremble in fear.

And then his time instantly ran out.

Pai threw the first punch.

In all truth, Kisshu hadn't been expecting it, not so quick or violent, and the only reason he managed to dodge it was because Ichigo screamed his name as soon as her eyes detected the slightest twitch in Pai's arm muscles.

Hmph. Maybe human eyes weren't so bad, after all.

_Damn…_

He had no time to think now. Kisshu quickly assumed his fighting stance, gritting his teeth as he realized that the jacket was hampering his movement. He needed all the speed he could get. As Pai wound up for a second punch, Kisshu frantically fumbled with his zipper.

Again, Pai would have easily hit him, had the eldest not been distracted by a piercing cry of "Mew Mew Ichigo, Metamorpho-sis!"

The slight break in attention was enough to allow Kisshu to shrug the heavy jacket off, and it fell to the ground with a flat thump, a few feet away from the newly-transformed Mew Ichigo.

"Ichigo!" Kisshu yelled, eyes now focused exclusively on Pai, "Get out of here! Run to the café, and—"

"What? And leave you? You want him to take you back?"

"He won't! I'll be fine, I swear, just—"

"I'm surprised you're foolish enough to underestimate me."

And now, Kisshu was forced to block a flurry of hard, fast punches as Pai flew at him, releasing his energy in a burst of attack that, while successfully avoided by the other alien, left him panting.

Pai smiled.

Normally, Kisshu never tired this easily. But now… this would be child's play.

Or, it would have been, had a certain cat-eared girl not decided to let her attack loose on him.

"Ribbon Strawberry Check!"

He had to jerk swiftly to the side to avoid the beam of light.

The distraction also gave Kisshu enough time to regain his breath and summon his Dragon Swords. Now he slashed at Pai with these sabers, slashed as viciously as he could as Pai ducked in and out of their paths, gritting his teeth in annoyance not because it was very difficult (Kisshu's jabs and thrusts were slower, weaker than usual), but because he knew that the girl had just jumped up behind him. He could feel a slight breeze against his back as she swiped at him with her weapon, lightly clipping him on the shoulder before he teleported out from between the two.

It stung just a bit, he noted as he reappeared some yards away. It also told him something:

He had to destroy the girl first.

Thus, Ichigo had no time to ask Kisshu if he was all right, or if he had a plan, or how they should coordinate their attacks. Pai came rushing at her just as she opened her mouth.

Kisshu barely had time to cry out as Pai flew past him and whipped out his fan, beating and slicing at the girl with it as she gasped, desperately trying to stay out of the thing's way.

He had to tire her out. If he tired her out enough, he could aim one of his greater attacks at her and kill her in one hit. Then, he could knock Kisshu out and…

And then…

Pai left those thoughts in favor of roughly elbowing Kisshu who had rushed over with a furious shout to try to help Ichigo fight off his former companion, then returned to mercilessly pummeling her as the other alien was knocked back.

And now...

He slammed the fan against her chest, hard, sending her spiraling upwards, up, up, barely conscious, he could tell, due to the heavy hit.

Perfect. He had her generally helpless, immobilized.

"Ichigo!"

Yes. Judging by the raw terror in Kisshu's voice, by the way he desperately tried to slash Pai with his swords, only to be thrown back again, muscles too weak to stand against the elder, he had her.

Pai aimed…

"Fuu Rai—"

…and had the fan knocked right out of his hand.

He stared at the rescuer, dumbly.

Kisshu stared with just as much shock.

The Blue Knight narrowed his eyes and brandished his sword ominously before giving it a mighty swing, ramming Pai in the side and sending the still-astonished alien crashing into the trunk of a tree.

For a few moments, no one moved. Pai slowly pulled himself to his feet, still confused, processing what had just happened.

The Blue Knight stared slowly at him, then at Kisshu…mostly at Kisshu, his eyes strange, his look unfathomable.

Kisshu stared back with the same confusion, the same wonder.

Yet it was he who broke the paralysis first.

As both he and the Blue Knight looked up and realized that Ichigo, limp and likely barely conscious had begun her downward descent, he was the first to leap up with another strangled cry of her name, only to be followed closely by the Blue Knight as he struggled to fly up to her.

Thus, Ichigo opened her eyes and saw, at odd angles that first confused her, because she was falling, two shapes, one vaguely black, the other a bright, sharp blue, coming towards her.

_Nyugh… what… where…_

And suddenly, she recognized the blue blur with the same astonishment the aliens had experienced.

_The Blue Knight!_

But then, just as suddenly, with an amazing ferocity, another thought invaded her mind, and staid.

_Kisshu! Where… where is he?_

She wished, not even worrying about the fact that she was falling, that she could see better, just to find him, just to see that he was…

But those two blurs were coming closer, and closer.

And for a moment, she prepared herself to land in the arms of the Blue Knight, prepared to feel his strong, secure arms wrap around her as she clutched at his neck, bringing her to safety.

She landed in a pair of arms, sure enough, and she hugged a neck, and felt a strong grip secure her, but…

It wasn't the Blue Knight…

She could see well again, and the Blue Knight was dropping away, dropping to the ground, and oddly… what? Was she seeing it right? He had an oddly peaceful, serene, almost satisfied expression on his face, and as she gazed at him, wondering about that, she could have sworn that she saw him say something…

And as she thought she saw his lips moving, she felt whomever was holding her stiffen, and only then did she realize that she was rubbing against the fabric of her father's turtleneck.

"Kisshu…" Her murmur was still soft, weak as she fought to gain her voice back, but he heard it all the same.

"Hold still, Ichigo, I've got you…" And even though he sounded strange, just a mite too quiet (why had he stiffened, just now, when she had thought…), he held her strongly and surely.

It was then that she realized something, as she accepted the idea that he had caught her, when for some reason, the Blue Knight had failed.

His grip was different from the Blue Knight's. It was rougher, tighter. It made it somewhat difficult for her to breathe properly, even hurt a bit, as his arms squeezed her tightly to his chest, closer to him, as close as possible…

And yet she knew, in her half-conscious state, that he was holding her so tightly because had he just been petrified of losing her. She knew that his vice-grip only symbolized how passionately he loved her, how mindlessly terrified he had been when she had been falling through the air like a limp rag-doll, how desperately he wanted to protect her from that. She could feel each of his ten fingers individually pressing into her arm, shoulder, and leg, each a strong pressure, each perhaps strong enough to leave a mark, a bruise.

Ichigo knew suddenly, instantly, that if she woke up tomorrow to find such bruises decorating her legs, she wouldn't care. She wouldn't care because she knew what they were from, why they were there.

She knew that they spawned from his force of his love, of his need to keep her safe now, and…

…Ichigo felt safe.

And so she wrapped her arms around Kisshu's neck with the same trust, the same sincere gratitude with which she had always held onto the Blue Knight.

This was how they gently landed.

The boy set her down carefully, and she let him go. For a few seconds, both looked around for any signs of Pai or the Blue Knight, but the other two had disappeared from the area.

After this, Ichigo was the first to speak.

"K-Kisshu, I—"

"Are you all right?" She nodded right away, because the voice he spoke in was so serious, that she knew he demanded the answer immediately.

As soon as she had, the boy seemed to relax, trembling muscles relaxing, mouth allowing a relived smile to curve its lips, eyes losing their wideness and retrieving their sparkle.

"Good. Then we can keep going."

"Going? Are you crazy? You just…Pai almost…" her outburst was cut short by a stern look from him.

"Exactly. He knows. If Pai knows, then Deep Blue knows, and that means we can't wait any longer, Ichigo! We have to go _now_."

"But…but Kisshu…" Again, his golden eyes silenced her.

Oh, but how she desperately wanted to stop for a second, just a moment, and process the fact that Pai had just attacked Kisshu, and that the Blue Knight had come, and had not attacked Kisshu, and then…then Kisshu had caught her…

Why had he caught her, and not the Blue Knight? What had happened? And had the Blue Knight…?

"No. Come on, we have to—" he had grabbed her arm, begun to pull her forward, but she managed to wrench herself free, whether because of the force of her own will, or because his grip was weak from the fight, she didn't know. Nevertheless, he stared at her in shock.

Despite the fact that she could see that he truly _wanted_ to go, probably shaken by the confrontation with Pai, probably thinking about what it meant regarding Deep Blue and the like, she stopped in her tracks.

"Ichi—"

"Kisshu, why did you catch me?"

He blinked, his bewilderment obvious.

"Ichigo… what do you mean, why?" He spoke slowly, sounding almost hurt. "Did you… did you think I'd let you fall? Did you…"

Poor boy. He was so stressed, that her words were probably making him think that she was somehow doubting the love that had grown over the last week.

Ichigo began to shake her head. "No, no, Kisshu, that's not it. I mean, why didn't the Blue Knight…" she trailed off, waiting for him to compose himself, waiting for an answer.

_The Blue Knight…_

Kisshu blanked for a moment, then…

Then felt a twinge of relief, his irrational thoughts about her doubting the feelings dissipating, and then…

He frowned slightly, confusion flooding him again, at the memory of the Blue Knight…

…and what he had said…

"Kisshu, did he say something, anything? Please?" She could see the discomfort she was causing him, and though she could hardly stand it, she _needed_ this answer, needed it for reasons she could not guess.

"Take her."

Ichigo drew a breath, then stopped, words failing her, Kisshu's confusion flooding her now.

"W-what?"

The boy paused, taking a few seconds to look up into her shining eyes.

"He said, 'Take her. Protect her.' So I did."

Speechlessness.

Silence.

Astonishment.

That meant something, she realized, vaguely. What the Blue Knight had said meant more than she could understand right now…it meant something for the future…

And Kisshu knew it, too. He had to, because it had made him stiffen, freeze momentarily, as he had held her. Perhaps to him…

Perhaps he knew even more…

But that was for later. Much later. Right now, she was drowning in the memory of how _safe _she had felt in those arms…

The silence was broken when Ichigo inhaled sharply, so sharply that it hurt her chest, and threw her arms around Kisshu's neck, burying her face in his chest.

Right now, all that mattered was breathing in Kisshu's scent, his wonderfully strange, alien scent, as he tentatively, surprised by her suddenness, returned the hug.

"Arigatou," she whispered, and she heard Kisshu laugh, a deeper, throatier laugh than his usual snickers. She could feel it in his chest.

"I promised you, didn't I, Ichigo?" She loved the way her name sounded at that moment, spoken in the tones of his voice, made more beautiful by sincerity.

After a few more breaths, she looked up with a tearful smile.

"Hai."

They retrieved the jacket and gloves and resumed their walk.

* * *

AN: My, my. 1:30 AM. And I still have to read sociology stuff. Well, that chappie done (and I apologize for the wait!) leaves us with, I'm pretty sure, one more chappie to go. And then… the sequel, I guess :P. 

And I'm sorry for the typos and any confusion. My vision is happily blurring together, so it'll be fixed eventually.

Night, all!


	20. Chapter 20

AN: Damn. Five weeks, eh? Heh. My fault, my fault. Sorry for the wait, but things have been odd around here. Mainly related to parental arguments and calculus. Yes, damn calculus. To hell. But anyway, I'm making this AN as short as I can, cuz I want to sleep. It's almost 2 AM here. So, on to the reviewers. There were a _lot_ of you this time, and I had great fun reading everyone's comments!

AKC: Ah, what can I say to you? You are like, my favorite reviewer person _ever_. You inspire me, dangit.

LilyBlaze: I'm glad I could brighten your day. Hopefully, this chap is as useful to you. Thanks for being such a nice, faithful reviewer!

TigerLilly: One day, Ichigo will take advantage of it. Possibly in a Healing-related one-shot. Mhmm. And yea. Actually, in two days, I get to go to Florida for a week with my brother and my mother. Gods, I _hate_ my mother. It shall suck. Spring break, and again, no anime or anything. Just… that _woman…_

Noc and NC: I'm glad you like it. I'm always relieved to hear when I get characterization right, cuz I tend to suck at it. Canada was nice! I liked the snow.

BlackWingedGabriel: So sorry for the wait! Nah, don't need glasses. Just sleep. Which I won't get much of tonight, again. Dang.

Dust-in: You are generally the reason I'm bothering with the sequel. I need it to get Pai and Lettuce together :P. My spring break will be filled with my mother. I pity myself.

Snowbluerat: I realize this is late, but my sympathies for you and your pet. I've had pets die. I've seen other people's pets die. I've held for euthanasia. I know it's damn hard. Hope you're okay.

goldwing-silverwing angel: You read it in one go? Poor you :P

Sakura: Yup. They're long. This one is as long as the last :P

STLC: Last one! And go update…

Tamashi no kaitou: Thanks for your support. I'm glad I did something right in the characterization…

Okay, I _know_ a hell of a lot more people reviewed, but I just can't go on tonight. If I get to it, I may reply using the reply button thing. Right now, I think you all just want to get to the chappie anyway :P.

So, without further ado:

Disclaimer: If I owned TMM, Kisshu would have gotten Ichigo, Masaya would be dead, and I wouldn't have to lose sleep writing this fic :P Hehe. Ah well.

* * *

Lettuce was shaking.

He had _never_ yelled at her before. He'd never even _snapped_ at her, complained to her, done _anything_ that voiced some sort of displeasure. Granted, he'd often start arguments with Ichigo, or scold one of the other girls (except for Zakuro; no one really crossed her), but he had never said anything of the sort to her.

So now, wide eyes staring at the blonde as Keiichiro gently forced him to sit down, murmuring some random phrases he undoubtedly hoped would calm his friend, Lettuce trembled with the total shock of seeing Ryou at his most enraged.

All it had taken was a soft "K-Kisshu-san is…"

Somehow, probably through a combination of her reaction to his phone call a few days ago and his own innate genius, and probably the added "-san," those two stuttered, whispered words were all it took, and he had instantly switched from mildly concerned and curious to cold disbelief. A heartbeat after that, she had found herself barely able to breathe as an unbelievable fury entered his eyes and voice.

She had never seen those clear blue eyes so clouded by vicious anguish…

…for a moment, she wondered, if perhaps, this was the look he had worn when his parents had—

And then all thought had vanished as hope, any hope of a peaceful negotiation, swiftly fled, chased off by this rising wrath.

"Lettuce."

She was startled not by renewed anger, but by the soft tone that carried her name.

Keiichiro.

The girl looked up to see the eldest member of the Mew Mew Project trying to be both gentle with her, his eyes soft and silently pleading as they captured her gaze, and firm with his companion. A quick side-glance saw how his slender hand was perched on the blonde's shoulder, fingers tense in an anxious firmness…

It startled her so badly, that all she managed in answer was a stuttering "H-hai?"

Strange, eerie, even, how calm his voice was: the exact opposite of Ryou's near-wild tirade of a minute ago.

"Where are they now?"

Somehow, his tone brought her thoughts to order. She swallowed quietly before straightening in growing resolve.

"They're coming here. They should…" she glanced back down at Keiichiro's hand; its muscles had flexed ever so slightly in response to the barely visible twitch Ryou had given at the words "coming here." "They should be here soon." She swallowed again, almost in time with the blonde making as if to get up, only to be pushed back down, silenced again by that almost desperate look…

Somehow, that little series of movements compelled a rise of courage within the girl, and before she knew what was happening, she heard her voice leap forth from her tight throat as her hands, trembling slightly at her sides, clenched and unclenched.

"Shirogane-san, if you would just—"

His blue eyes settled on hers.

She recovered from the falter.

"Please, maybe, if you would just listen, just for a moment, we could—"

"They have never wanted to negotiate before. What makes you think it would work now?"

Both of the men and Lettuce turned to the new voice, for Zakuro had taken to opportunity to walk in, no doubt a pseudo-ambassador for the other two Mews listening not-so-covertly at the door (when Lettuce had arrived, all three other Mew Mews had been present at the café; when asked, each claimed to feel a need to be there at that specific time. Lettuce supposed their bonds to each other had just grown that strong). She surveyed the scene with ever-blank eyes, arms crossed and head tilted just barely to the side, looking as curious as her cold demeanor would allow.

Maybe it was the coldness, the deep apathy, of that dark slate-blue gaze that called up a wave of vibrant courage within the porpoise-girl. Whatever managed it, Zakuro and the men found themselves staring at Lettuce in mild shock as her voice rose to its loudest, her eyes sparking with a passion that immobilized all three of them for a moment.

Actually, Zakuro and Ryou were the most shocked of the trio; Keiichiro was watching with a mix of curiosity and…dare he think it?…pride?

There was, no doubt, something about the conviction in Lettuce's gaze that inspired a definite sense of satisfaction in the man, and it lessened his disbelief just a bit.

Was there some merit to what she was saying? Could she actually be…?

"But we never gave them a chance!"

It was all she had to say to coax a soft, half-whispered "Lettuce-san…" from Keiichiro's parted lips.

Zakuro and Ryou, in turn, stiffened.

For a second, as Lettuce held their gazes, she thought, for just the most miniscule moment, that something had clicked. Ryou's blue eyes flickered.

Then, Zakuro assumed her expressionless stance, and Ryou tensed in preparation for a rebuttal.

Lettuce did not know what he would have said, or how she would have responded. To be sure, she certainly did not know what _she_ would have answered with, or how this argument would have rekindled.

All she knew what that she would have preferred it did.

Instead, the next voice she heard belonged to an incredulous, plainly distressed Minto. There was no question about who had just walked in through the door:

"Ichigo!"

And there was no doubt as to who had just come in with her. Pudding's uncharacteristically somber voice (she had been oddly subdued after Ryou had started yelling at Lettuce; the scene, combined with the news, seemed to have driven her to a realm of deep thought that instilled an odd quiet over the monkey-girl) took care of that:

"Kisshu-…"

Before Lettuce even registered what was really happening, she noticed that Pudding's voice trailed off strangely, as if she had wanted to add something more, but hadn't been sure…

This train of thought lasted only a second, however, for in the next, Ryou was opening the door, face drawn in new anger. Keiichiro was trying to match his pace, mouth opening in a cry of the blonde's name, hand outstretched, just missing the back of the boy's shirt, in an attempt to halt him.

Zakuro only stood there, arms forever crossed, eyes forever blank.

Again, that look… Lettuce rapidly found herself following Keiichiro, overtaking him, opening her mouth and:

"Shiro—"

It wasn't that she didn't have the willpower to push forward, perhaps to even grab the boy's shoulder and try to calm him down.

It was just that Ryou's rage (and who could blame him, really? Lettuce visibly cringed as she reminded herself of how the boy's past was obviously affecting his actions) was that much stronger.

Lettuce's voice was cut off by an enraged cry of "You _baka_!"

She tried once again, received no answer, and didn't bother a third time. Ryou's attention belonged only to the alien and red-head standing before him.

Said alien and red-head looked…

Ichigo's expression mirrored what anyone could have predicted: frightened, anxious, yet marked by a willful spark that warned of a coming outburst if things continued in the same vein.

Kisshu… Lettuce could see only one thing in his golden eyes: the determination to protect, to guard. Of course, she had no doubt as to whom that determination was meant for. Other than that glint, he remained strangely expressionless, motionless, and the porpoise-girl realized that he meant to stay that way.

At least, until the cat-girl made the first move.

Yes, both boys were waiting for Ichigo to react, Ryou targeting her specifically, Kisshu warily watching and allowing it… all would depend on _her_.

And Ichigo _looked_ as if she wanted to speak, to argue, to fight, even. That fire was there, smoldering away in pink-brown irises, but something was keeping her from it.

Fear?

Worry for the alien boy standing just slightly behind her? Near-terror, because he had just come out of a bizarre battle against his own comrade, and she still didn't know what to make of it?

Concern for Lettuce, who knew her expression could not have been encouraging?

Anxiety over the reactions of the other Mews that, while silenced now, were inevitable?

A combination, probably, but nonetheless something that kept her rooted to the spot, fists clenched to near blood-drawing point, courage on the verge of being put to action, but trapped behind a growing, twisting tension until…

Ichigo did nothing to break it; rather, she only acted as a sort of victim for the trigger: namely, Ryou's hand, reaching out to hit or grab, no one knew, but resulting in a break in not Ichigo's paralysis, but _Kisshu's_.

The alien stepped forward, pale hand grabbing Ryou's wrist, lips pulling back in a sneer as that protective glint sparked into warning flame, and his voice cut through the tension, a deceptively calm tone in the face of the blonde's furious exclamation.

"Now, I'm pretty sure you don't want to do that, ne? I think you want to let my kone—"

The alien's hand had been steadily tightening over Ryou's wrist, slowly twisting, gradually moving towards a realm where his hold would be less defensive and more offensive, because everyone knew that no matter how set on peace Kisshu had been at his arrival, any sort of threat against Ichigo swiftly demoted him to violent, aggressive square one.

And any sort of threat to his own person inspired the same sort of reaction in Ryou. He gritted his teeth instantly, muscles tensing as he prepared to take a swing at the green-haired boy, who now looked just about ready for another battle.

"You—!"

The blonde's snarl resulted in a number of cries: one from Keiichiro, a plea to halt, a couple from Minto and Pudding, both strangled, shocked gasps, and finally, one from Lettuce:

"Ichigo!"

The porpoise-girl was the only one who knew exactly what to say, whom to appeal to, in order to have any hope of remedying the situation. She was the only one who managed to capture the red-head's gaze and send that plea to _her_.

It _worked_.

The next cry was one of "Stop, Kisshu!" and Ryou stopped in sheer amazement as Ichigo's arms closed around the alien's waist, pulled him back, ended the fight before it began. In turn, Kisshu left threatening for mildly confused, though he retained his ability to speak.

"Ichigo…" All he managed, however, was her name.

It didn't matter. That was all she needed to break the dam holding back the strength that had grown within her during the trials of the past few days.

She now did something that stunned Ryou into choked silence.

She smiled.

Right at the alien, who carefully, still warily, smiled _back_.

Well, Ryou was flabbergasted, needless to say. So were the Mews, of course, save for one.

"Kisshu-san, I think it would be best if you—"

Lettuce did not have to finish her sentence. Somewhere between Ichigo's pleading eyes and the porpoise-girl's soft voice, Kisshu quickly got the concept of "leave, so we can make sure our favorite blonde genius doesn't get the chance to behead you." Thus, he instantly teleported to stand beside Lettuce who, though momentarily surprised by the quick movement, swiftly continued through with her plan to allow Ichigo full reign over the situation by beginning to lead the alien into the back room.

"Are you _insane_? If you think I'm—! T-the computers are back th—!"

Ryou instantly woke from his shock and began to yell any fragment of furious thought at Lettuce, mind frantically running through warnings of _enemy_ and _monster_ and… and once, just once, to _fire_….

However, that fleeting visual of orange flame was all it took to have him spin around and try to pursue the porpoise-girl.

This time, Ichigo did not have the time to reach out and stop him.

The boy's path was blocked by Keiichiro, and he wilted almost immediately.

"Don't you think you should at least listen to her, Ryou?"

The blonde sputtered, will dampened by the strangely calm tone Keiichiro used.

"I think I've heard enou—"

"Ichigo-san is obviously not injured, and neither is Lettuce-san. Don't you think that that means that they—"

"A trick! It can't be any more than a trick, and just because this baka's stupid enough to fall for it, doesn't mean that I—!"

The older man was trying to appeal to the blonde's logic, but Ryou's anger was making it unbearably difficult.

That, and Keiichiro knew he could not have sounded all that persuasive. The truth was, he hardly believed what he was saying, barely fathomed it…

…but he knew it wasn't wrong. He had known from the moment Lettuce's eyes had locked Ryou's and begged him to listen to her, from the moment Ichigo arrived with a Kisshu that looked so utterly _different_, in human garb, no less, that something _dramatic_ had occurred, and the blonde genius was undoubtedly wrong.

These thoughts, though effective in compelling Keiichiro, had little to no effect on Ryou. He just took another breath, ready to continue countering Keiichiro's suggestion with more anger.

He never even managed to exhale.

Ichigo, free from worrying over Kisshu and Ryou trying to immediately kill each other, had regained a good deal of her courage, and her sharp voice quickly came to support Keiichiro. The very recent battle against Pai gave her plenty of fuel, even though she did not mention it. Things were complicated enough already. That could wait until much later.

"It's _not_ a trick. You don't even _know_ what's happened, and you're al—"

She gritted her teeth when he snorted.

"Lettuce was kind enough to give me the details. And I can't help it if you're so mind-numbingly _foolish_, that you can't see when the enemy is using you." He ended in a tone so cold, so _final_, that Ichigo's eyes filled with tears.

She was shaking now, and she knew she would cry, and crying would make things so much worse.

Suddenly, the girl wished that Lettuce hadn't retreated. She even wished the other Mews hadn't disappeared up the stairs to listen unseen; even their nervous presence would have lessened the tension between her and Ryou somewhat.

Tears pooled in her eyes, blurring her vision as her mind raced to find a way to counter him, to regain her proverbial footing.

Images came to mind.

Flashes of feeling came to her.

Bits and pieces of her time with the alien, but one memory standing out against the blonde's accusation.

She could suddenly feel a phantom touch on her wrist, the memory, growing ever stronger, of the moment he had begged her for one last kiss before his death burning brilliantly in her chaotic thoughts.

His _death_.

He had thought he would die.

_She_ had thought he would die.

Die…

The boy…

The boy had almost…_died_ for her.

For _her_.

Those days and nights he spent in agony… a trick?

Those kisses, lies?

Those words, mere fairytales?

Those eyes…

"You're the foolish one."

Both Keiichiro and Ryou froze in shock.

Her voice had lost its shrillness, its frantic bite. A tone of the smoothest tranquility had taken its place.

For a moment, Keiichiro realized that there was a light in her eyes he had seen before, in Lettuce's.

It was that light of gentle wisdom.

And in that moment, Keiichiro knew who had won.

Ichigo smiled at Ryou, and the blonde found his voice gone.

"It's already changed, and there's nothing you can do." She looked up at him, watched his eyes widen ever so slightly.

"I've already promised him," she paused, then added in a bare whisper, laced with a soft smile, "and he promised me."

And now Ryou realized who had won. He didn't fight.

The boy blinked once, twice, before making a noise that was half-snort, half-sigh. Either way, it was a noise of weak acceptance, and in that second, Ichigo felt her heart go out to him. She knew what this defeat meant to him, what it called up within him.

It called up that image of devastating flames…

But she had no chance to voice this, because before she knew it he had turned and begun ascending the stairs, ignoring Keiichiro faintly calling his name, taking no notice of Minto and Pudding staring curiously after him, or Zakuro allowing her gaze to imperceptibly follow him before he disappeared into his room.

And that, Ichigo realized with a half-bemused, half-relieved blink, was that.

Well, perhaps not totally, but that was about as much as she was going to see of it. Later, Keiichiro would probably go upstairs and try to calm to boy down, reason with him, work everything out so that Ryou could feel some semblance of peace.

Now, however, it seemed the older brunette had eyes only for the situation at hand. Ichigo was startled by the abruptness with which he pressed forward, no matter how gentle and soothing his tone was.

"I suppose we have much to discuss, Ichigo-san."

It managed to catch her off guard, but she righted herself quickly. "H-hai."

"Come on, then."

He turned and began to approach the back room; the girl followed, slowly at first, then suddenly picking up speed as a sense of strange excitement seized her. It just occurred to her that she had faced Shirogane and _survived_. And now she would be able to tell Kisshu the good news, and maybe he would be so happy, he'd hug her—

At that moment, it became quite obvious, how far the two had come in their relationship, for that thought had come calmly, naturally, and had resulted in a fiery blush lighting her cheeks. She was grateful Keiichiro seemed more intent on forcing himself to walk forward and complete his new duty rather than on studying her.

Soon after this observation, the two entered the room, the sight of a fidgety Lettuce, along with an equally fidgety Kisshu trying to relieve his anxiety by toying with a cup of tea the porpoise-girl had likely given him, met their eyes. A moment later, Kisshu's golden eyes were captured by Ichigo's gaze, and the alien automatically smiled. The fact that that nauseating fear had gone from her eyes was enough to tell him who the victor was, and he rose from his seat with a grin slowly tugging on his lips, obviously ready to fulfill Ichigo's little fleeting fantasy then and there.

He froze again, however, at Lettuce's voice. She had risen as well and was giving Keiichiro her full, sympathetic attention.

"Akasaka-san… is Shirogane-san…?"

Ichigo visibly flinched at the name, and Kisshu strode forward to stand protectively by her, half-formed grin fading into a look of concern.

Keiichiro saw this. He saw it very quickly, and even though he knew that at that moment, he should have answered somberly, his companion's name a sure trigger for the melancholy, he could not help a spark of interest at the bond that seemed to have formed between the Mew leader and her (_former, I guess…_) enemy. So, instead of reacting in any way Lettuce was expecting, he gave her a relaxed, calming smile.

"He will be fine. I will speak to him later. Now," he turned to Ichigo and a curious-looking Kisshu, "I believe we have slightly more pressing things to discuss."

The next half hour seemed to fly by with ridiculous speed, and each moment yielded another little surprise for Ichigo, most of them involving how civil Kisshu was managing to act in front of one of the Mew Project leaders. He was listening, nodding, controlling himself magnificently, without the slightest smirk or hint of a snide remark. Soon, both Ichigo and Lettuce were so mesmerized by this, that they fell out of the conversation, watching instead as Keiichiro and Kisshu discussed various matters, first tackling a quick retelling of recent events (Keiichiro, ever polite, took a few minutes to offer the laboratory's medical facilities, which Kisshu answered with an equally polite shake of the head…and a quick, charmingly grateful glance at the cat-girl), then progressing to a rather tense, thankfully short mention of Pai (and Taruto, but Kisshu smoothed over that so quickly, that Keiichiro knew not to press; obviously, the alien was still mulling over the situation with the youngest of the trio), and finally landing on the touchy topic of what would happen next.

"It is my understanding that Ichigo-san's parents are returning tonight. Is that correct?"

Kisshu nodded; Ichigo did as well.

"Yeah," she finally spoke up, "they'll be back around eight."

"Then I suppose you will not be able to remain at her home, Kisshu-san."

The alien's calm demeanor finally dissolved into a touch of understandable disappointment, and a faint pout touched his face.

"Well, I wouldn't say—"

"If my dad saw you, he'd kill you, then have a heart attack… then probably kill you again…" Ichigo trailed off rather comically, though Kisshu immediately saw the sense in what she said. Still, he was determined.

"Aww… c'mon, koneko-chan. You don't think I could win 'im over?" He looked at her with a hopeful grin.

"…you've never met my dad, have you?"

"Eh…no…"

"Then you have no—"

The two fell silent, slightly sheepish, at the sound of Keiichiro clearing his throat.

"The point of the matter is that I don't think you can stay here."

This set Ichigo off immediately.

"But Akasaka-san, if he can't stay here, then…"

She didn't really have to ask _why_ he couldn't stay. The knowledge that the blonde was still upstairs was, of course, the explanation. The girl didn't argue; she only voiced her growing sense of desperation. Kisshu frowned, plainly uneasy at suddenly being a burden.

Lettuce, abruptly deciding to enter the conversation, offered a suggestion. "Maybe he… he could stay with one of us?"

Keiichiro shook his head. "I doubt the other girls are quite ready for something like that. Granted, Minto-san's mansion is big enough to hide him, and Pudding might be able to explain him to her siblings, but regardless, I don't think it right to ask just yet. And I do not believe you will be able to conceal him from your family, Lettuce-san."

The porpoise-girl hung her head. "I…" She fell silent. He was right, of course.

At this point, Kisshu was getting annoyed at being talked about, and did what he normally did in such a situation: forced an impish smile onto his face and offered his own "expert" advice.

"You know, koneko-chan, I don't have to stay in a house. I could just sleep in the tree outside your window. It's easy to hide in, and the view's great."

Ichigo whipped around to fix him with a steady glare. Now, at first he thought its purpose was the usual: a twinge of annoyance at his habitual suggestive comment. As soon as she opened her mouth, however, he realized otherwise.

"If _you_," she jabbed her finger at him here, making him blink in surprise, then begin to grin rather sheepishly, "think that you're going to sleep _outside_ in the _cold_ after all of that, you're more of a baka than I thought!"

Keiichiro found it bizarrely difficult to keep a smile from his lips.

"Then I take it you have a plan, Ichigo-san?"

Again, Keiichiro's voice caused her to pause. She absentmindedly scratched her chin with a delicate finger.

"Ano…"

All three others were watching her expectantly. Lettuce's eyes were wide behind her thick glasses; Keiichiro seemed to have focused absolutely all of his attention on the girl; Kisshu… actually, had the others been more attentive to him rather than to Ichigo, they would have observed one of his charming little alien traits: his ears were twitching ever so slightly in his deep curiosity.

Now, Ichigo wasn't a particularly great thinker. This was a general given to anyone who had any familiarity with her ditziness-prone mind. However, her thoughts were progressing with impressive rapidity today, and she realized one point very, very quickly.

She actually didn't want Kisshu to leave. The girl wasn't quite sure if that should have been surprising or not, but the fact remained that she didn't want to boy living anywhere but at her own house, especially _now_. After all that had happened, she couldn't imagine being separated from him so drastically. There was still too much to do…

_Ao—_

After this realization, her mind raced to find some way to accommodate these feelings.

Again, a very impressive thing happened:

She found one.

Actually, she had seen the trick done so many times in books and on random television shows, she was surprised the idea hadn't come to her sooner.

A wide smile lit her face as she assumed the classic "Eureka!" expression.

"I could tell my parents he's an exchange student!"

Lettuce and Keiichiro both face-faulted; Kisshu just looked confused.

"What's an exchange student?"

Keiichiro, recovering, sighed. "She means that you would pose as a student from another country staying at her house. But Ichigo-san, how would you explain that to your parents?"

"What do you mean, explain? I could just tell them I offered to be part of the program! It's not like they'd be able to turn him away." The triumph remained in her face.

"And what do you plan to do about…" Keiichiro's gaze plainly settled on Kisshu's long, extremely conspicuous ears…. which twitched again. Apparently, he was just as curious about the solution to that little issue.

Here, however, Ichigo lost her triumphant smile, faltering nervously. "Ah… well, we could…" She looked over at Kisshu helplessly, and he snorted at her.

"Don't look at me! It's not like I can shrink them or anything."

Ichigo pouted, a normal reaction to annoyances such as this.

Luckily, before an argument could break out, Lettuce cleared her throat.

"Perhaps you could tell your parents he was born that way."

Kisshu blinked.

"I _was_ born this way."

"A-ano, I mean…"

"She means pass them off as a birth abnormality. Right, Lettuce-san?"

Keiichiro's voice brought her confidence back, and the porpoise-girl nodded. "I-it's not a very good idea, I'm afraid, but…"

"I think in this case, it'll do just fine." Keiichiro smiled encouragingly.

"Yeah! My parents'll believe anything. That'll work just fine," Ichigo added, smile taking its rightful place. She had a good point. If her parents believed that she randomly ran off to study at friends' houses at nine P.M. (of course, a regular excuse in the face of a sudden Chimera Anima attack), they'd probably fall for this sooner or later.

And she just _knew_ it would work. It had to. The girl felt extremely adamant about not leaving Kisshu, and she was glad Lettuce had come up with a solution, even if it remained a somewhat uncertain one. The girl had been dreading having to plead (she had felt that it would have turned out that way, somehow), so one could imagine her relief.

"So that's it?"

Keiichiro nodded, about to give a soft "I suppose so," about to begin to go further into details about what would happen _next_, when:

"Yeah. Is it?"

The group, all but Kisshu, who had already started a moment before they did, as he was facing the door, turned to see a prim-looking Minto and an oddly quiet Pudding standing in the doorway. Zakuro was no where to be seen; perhaps she had stayed upstairs, guarding over the distressed Ryou.

"Minto-san…" Lettuce was the first to say her name, but Ichigo was the first to really answer. Unfortunately, she didn't do it very kindly. Seeing Minto looking none too relaxed, Ichigo immediately assumed the worst and replied in a tight, accusing voice. She did it so quickly, Keiichiro didn't even have the chance to step in. Kisshu remained silent.

"You have a _problem_ with that, Minto?"

She was expecting the girl to snap back at her, or start to argue. Instead, Minto's eyes grew dull, sad, and she answered in a voice shaking with barely-controlled emotion.

"Of course I have a problem with it! You can't just come in here, with _him_ (Kisshu flinched as those eyes feel accusingly on him, but he sensed that rising to his own defense wasn't the best idea), and expect us to accept it! I mean… Ichigo, have you forgotten what they've _done_?"

The cat-girl blinked, taken aback.

"Minto…"

"I mean, have you forgotten what we're supposed to be doing? We have a world to protect! Why don't you go tell your friends and your parents that you've decided that… that _he's_ worth more than they are!"

It was obvious, at this point, that Minto had lost her self-control. The girl was glaring at Ichigo and Kisshu in turn, eyes slowly filling with tears.

And what worried Ichigo most was that Pudding remained silent throughout all of it, still deep in whatever thoughts were troubling her.

"I…"

She didn't dare look to Lettuce or Keiichiro for help, because she knew what this was. Over the past few days, she had come to recognize these moments for what they were: her own personal tests of conviction. She treated this one as such.

Calm, collected, and soothingly warm and caring, her voice fought against Minto's rising distress.

"I promised, Minto. And so did he." The last bit was a whisper. Then, her voice returned: "And… and we have to change this _now_. We'll find a way." As she spoke, she smiled, and as she smiled, she threw a side glance at Kisshu, who looked first at her, then at Minto, and stiffened. It occurred to him, very, very abruptly, that it was his turn to prove himself.

For the first time, Kisshu looked up and met Minto's eyes without any desire to harm, or to tease. His gaze held no malice. It was serious, thoughtful, even... apologetic. And then he turned that same gaze to Pudding, and to Lettuce, and finally, to Keiichiro.

The bird-girl took a moment to absorb that gaze, take in those clear golden eyes, before swallowing nervously and stiffening. At first, as she did that, Ichigo wilted in disappointment, believing the reaction undoubtedly negative.

However, after a few seconds, Minto let out a breath.

"I'm going for a walk."

No one questioned her as she turned and left the room.

Next, Ichigo realized it was time to work with Pudding.

"Pudding-chan," she began slowly, softly, still under the watchful gaze of the other three, "are you all right?"

Moments passed until suddenly, the little girl raised her head and looked not at Ichigo, but at _Kisshu_. To top that off, she addressed him, too, and not in what Ichigo had come to consider the conventional way.

"Kisshu-onii-chan?"

Everyone was stunned, and it took Kisshu a while to recover from his bewilderment and answer her.

"Y-yeah?"

"Does this mean that Taru-Taru can sleep over Pudding's house?"

The group now decided that it was very apparent as to what Pudding thought of the whole matter.

The girls, and even Keiichiro, began to giggle and laugh, not only because Pudding's somber expression was gone, the girl now beaming at Kisshu, but also because the aforementioned alien looked torn between being utterly confused by her request and cooking up ways to tease Taruto about this little request in the future.

The mirth continued as the girl began to chatter to herself, already beginning to list activities she was just dying to try on the little alien.

"…and we can bake cookies, and play house, and watch scary movies, and—"

"Pudding-chan. Why don't you go ahead and write all of that down?" Keiichiro, ever calm, tried to restore some order so the discussions could continue.

"But Pudding has a great memory! See, I can list it all from the beginning: hide and seek, tag, jum—"

"Taruto has a horrible memory. You can write it down for him."

Pudding paused, blinked, and grinned again.

"Then Pudding shall go find paper, and a pencil, and…" The little girl trailed off as she whirled around and bounded out the door.

Needless to say, Keiichiro was not the only one staring at Kisshu in disbelief. The alien boy found three pairs of eyes on him and frowned at Ichigo's amazed stare.

"What? Like I wanted to listen to that… she's like Taruto after he's eaten a few hundred of those candy things…"

That rekindled the laughter.

The next half hour of planning and decisions passed much more easily than the last. By the time Kisshu and Ichigo were shrugging their coats back on and approaching the door, Pudding had regained her cheer, Lettuce was wearing that shy smile of approval, and Keiichiro…

There was a warmth shining in his brown eyes that made Ichigo grin even wider as she waved a quick good-bye and pulled a somewhat pensive Kisshu out the door.

But before she managed to drag him out entirely, the alien stole a last glance back at the café, and his eyes chanced to glimpse something that no one else saw: a brief flash of blonde at the top of the stairs.

Turning back to a suddenly-impatient Ichigo, he mirrored her smile, and they set off for home.

* * *

They had been walking for about ten minutes in a joyous, relieved sort of silence, when Ichigo decided that her moment of self-control was over.

With a scream of "Yatta!" and a shriek of pure girlish jubilation, Kisshu found himself laying flat in a snow drift, a giggling Ichigo pinning him to the ground and pressing her cheek against his in a true, giddy embrace.

Needless to say, the boy grinned back, returned the bone-crushing hug with one of his own, and happily decided that he didn't quite mind the melted snow slowly making its way down the back of his shirt.

Nor did he mind those moments of stomach-clenching anxiety in the café, the nausea brought by the stares of so many accusing eyes.

No, he decided.

Her sweet laugh tickling his ear in her utter relief, her heart pounding so close to his, her smile so genuine, so different from what it would have once been, totally made up for it.

They made up for it so well, that he kissed her neck in his own expression of elation, and that only tightened her hug.

They didn't get up for another five minutes. The bliss was just too great.

Gods, it was all so worth it.

* * *

"H-how…"

He grinned.

"W-what did y-you…"

He grinned wider; a gleaming white fang sparkled back at her wide eyes.

"….."

He snickered.

Finally, Ichigo got out the only words that managed to truly embody the situation:

"That was _amazing_."

Now, normally, she wouldn't compliment Kisshu on his slyness and cunning; those were two characteristics that rather ruffled her metaphoric fur, particularly when used as methods to manipulate _her_.

However, what the boy had just done, what was making him grin so widely and smugly as he sat down on the guestroom bed, reaching up in perfect nonchalance to undo the bands in his hair in preparation for his upcoming shower, definitely merited praise.

The short of it went like this:

1. Ichigo's parents had come home.

2. Ichigo's father had immediately seen the undeniably cute, handsome alien boy sitting innocently on his living room couch.

3. Ichigo's father had acted in his usual manner. He had swelled in anger. He had gathered breath for a lovely verbal attack. He actually rather reminded everyone else, including his confused wife, of a puffer fish.

Now, let us all pay attention to the little twist that followed, as it was precisely what inspired such awe in the cat-girl a while afterwards:

Kisshu _lived_.

He did more than live, in fact.

The girl had never heard such polite, sophisticated speech flow from the alien's clever lips.

Somehow, using this astonishing ability to sound miraculously intelligent in front of her stunned father, Kisshu had eloquently explained his status as an exchange student, praised Ichigo's generosity in allowing him to stay at her home (which, he added, quickly winning Sakura over, was spacious and tastefully decorated), somehow managed to convince Ichigo's parents that his ears were part of some exotic skin condition (the girl went numb during this part; she briefly wondered if she was dreaming), and ended so beautifully, with so many sincere-sounding compliments that Ichigo felt positively light-headed, that the patriarchal rage in Shintaro's face gradually dissolved into _acceptance_.

Ichigo had barely recovered in time to nod in agreement to Kisshu's words.

The next thing she knew, Kisshu had excused them both to go wash up for bed, and Ichigo found herself staring, open-mouthed, barely able to conjure a sentence, at an extremely smug alien.

Finally, Kisshu interrupted Ichigo's half-stupor.

"What, did you think that after all that's happened, I was going to be chased away by your _father_?"

Ichigo could only blink.

"And here I thought you already knew that I have the ultimate gift of charm."

Still, all Ichigo could do was stare as a rather interesting thought ran through her mind:

How in the world had Kisshu pulled _that_ off when her father had threatened to kill _Aoyama_, who could only be described as the epitome of young male perfection?

Was someone trying to tell her…?

"Oi, Ichigo? Ichi—"

"If you don't mind… I think I'll shower first."

She said it in such a whispery, detached voice, that the boy was stunned silent even as he nodded slowly, bewildered, having fully expected some sort of sarcastic comment, some sort of engage in play that would have kept them amused for at least a few minutes. Instead, he didn't even try again as Ichigo, suddenly somber and quiet, left the room and made her way to the bathroom.

It occurred to him very abruptly as he toyed with on of his hair bands, a gentle frown settling into his features, that this little incident with her father, though it had ended markedly well, had just brought her train of thought full circle.

This was why, no matter how he longed to jump to his feet and go to the girl, to reassure her, to let his arms cradle her while she struggled with her inner battle, he stayed seated uneasily on his bed.

Ichigo had to do this alone.

Kisshu, fiddling more and more anxiously with his hair bands, face creasing into a frustrated half-snarl, Ichigo, locking herself in the bathroom and beginning to undress, lower lip caught between nearly-gritted teeth, both knew that this was Ichigo's trial alone, for the time had come.

It had been triggered by that stupid little thought regarding Shintaro, and it could not be pushed back any longer, not by either of them.

Kisshu, sighing shakily in an attempt to defeat his growing unease, lay down and decided to forgo his shower until morning.

Ichigo stepped into the shower's steady stream of water and let it blind and deafen her to the rest of the world.

Yet even as they tried to numb themselves to the realization, as Ichigo slipped into the calm pleasure of a hot shower, as Kisshu allowed slumber to overtake him, they both thought the same thought, and each knew, innately, that the other was feeling the exact same anxiety, for tomorrow…

Tomorrow, Ichigo would go see Aoyama.

* * *

She awoke early. Six A.M., to be precise.

She dressed silently, careful as never before to keep from even just brushing up against her desk or chair. Her steps were as silent as a feline's; the floorboards that usually creaked under her weight made no protest as she finished tying her hair back and crossed the room, opening her door with utmost stealth, and stepped out into the hallway.

A minute later, she was down the stairs and out the door, a hastily written note telling her parents that she had gone out for a brisk morning jog.

She didn't bother writing anything for Kisshu.

Most of her care, actually, was meant to guard against his waking up and meeting her before she left.

The girl wanted no distractions. She did not want any more difficulties.

The prospect of seeing his face again, those golden eyes so deep, so effortlessly pleading as they looked into hers, before leaving was too much, so she said a silent prayer of gratitude as she walked through her front gate, thankful that she had not had to face him.

Of course, what she failed to notice was that, just because she had not had to face him, it did not mean that he was not there.

As the girl made her way to the park where she knew Aoyama took his early-morning jogs, she did not notice the shadow, faint in the growing dawn's light, darting in and out from among the shadows of the trees bordering the street.

Kisshu made certain to remain as silent as Ichigo had as he trailed her into the park and down to the running field, and as soon as he saw the girl stiffen, as soon as he spotted that head of night-black hair bold against eh morning fog and snow, he settled into a nearby tree and let Ichigo move forward.

Now all he could do was watch.

And wait.

And… hope.

* * *

Ichigo did not know quite how to go about this. Standing on the edge of the field, gaze helplessly caught by Aoyama's running form, she feebly wondered what to do? Should she just walk right up to him?

A hello? A wave? A stupid, fake smile?

Should she wait until he noticed her? Would that be too awkward?

Hell, no matter how she went about this, it would be awkward.

Awkward, and nauseating, and terrifying, and… and unpredictable. Unpredictable, because she was standing there with no clear idea of how this would end…

That didn't chase her away, though. She _knew_ that it had to be settled now, that by the time she left this park, whether it was five minutes or an hour from now, she would know which one sh—

The girl bit her lip, cutting off that thought. It was still too much to consciously think about, even when it was staring her right in the face, waiting to be confronted, ready to lay waste to her fragile emotions.

But it _had_ to be done, and the sheer proof in that was Aoyama turning towards her in mid jog, altering his path and swiftly approaching her.

As soon as she saw those chocolate brown eyes land on her, Ichigo felt her knees weaken, her stomach churn, her eyes water with crippling anxiety.

And there was no turning back. It was sealed when the boy finally reached her and wasted no time in breaking the silence:

"Ohayou, Momomiya-san."

Miraculous, how he could sound so calm, so natural and tranquil, while the very slightest inkling of what she was about to discuss made Ichigo feel dangerously lightheaded. It accomplished the opposite of its probable intent, making the girl even more nervous as she struggled to answer.

Safely hidden in his tree, Kisshu unconsciously gritted his teeth at the tremor in her voice.

"O-ohayou, Aoyama-k-kun…"

How to do this? Should she just jump right in? Should she make small-talk, steer around the main point, try to make him comfortable?

Or, rather, try to make _herself_ comfortable?

Why in Heaven's name was he looking at her without the slightest troubled glint in his eyes? Why could he stand there breathing normally, standing tall and firm and confident, when she was trying her hardest, and very near failing, to keep from choking on her own air, to keep from shivering uncontrollably under Aoyama's expectant gaze.

What to do… how to start… what to say… where to _go_…

"I've been waiting for you."

Only the apparent randomness of this statement managed to shock her out of her paralyzing unease, and she blinked up at him in unabashed curiosity.

"Na… nani?"

"Since five A.M." The girl had to swallow back a gasp as he _smiled_ at her, actually smiled with a breathtaking _happiness…_

"F-five…?"

"Mm." He began to walk now, slowly, waiting for her to follow him. She fell into step quickly, realizing that he was trying to free her fro paralysis, calm her down, to bring back some feeling to her legs. It actually began to work; Ichigo's breathing evened began to even out, until he asked a question she had _never_ expected, one she could never have thought to prepare herself in the hours she spent uselessly training for this last night.

"Is he doing better?"

An audible gasp now, half-choke as she abruptly stopped walking, turning to blink at him, astonished.

Needless to say, perched in his tree, eyes never leaving the pair, Kisshu felt an identical shock.

Unable to tear her eyes away from Aoyama's, the girl nodded in a sort of dazed confusion, too bewildered to _not_ answer.

"Hai… he's… he's much better." She swallowed back the tears that were threatening her.

What the hell was he _doing_….?

Why ask… what… how… _why_…

"I'm glad."

The dam broke.

Tears began their familiar descent down her rosy cheeks; she took her next breath in a noisy sob. The pain rose up within her, only growing worse when she felt the boy's arms encircle her, pulling her into his chest. A moment later, she gritted her teeth against the gentle pressure of his chin against the top of her head.

"Aoyama-kun," she sobbed into his chest, drawing her fists up to her own, clenched, nails drawing blood in her distress, "I-I… I…"

No matter how badly she broke down, his voice remained gentle and calm.

"I know why you're here, Ichigo." The use of her first name combined with the firm resolve in his voice silenced her. He smiled down at her as she looked up.

"I want you to know that I'll always love you. Ichigo," he gave her a slight squeeze, "I'll never forget the time we had together."

The girl only stared.

What… what had just happened?

How in the world had he gone from "is he doing better?" to this soft declaration, this loving statement that somehow sounded so _final_.

Final.

Gods… _no_…

She desperately backpedaled away from the conclusion he was so obviously approaching.

"I still love you! Aoyama-kun, I still… please! I don't want you to—"

Amazing. He was still smiling at her.

"I couldn't believe it, when I saw you with him. I admit to that. I couldn't understand it at first, but—"

"No! I don't… I'm supposed to be with _you_! Forever. Aoyama-kun, it's _us_…"

He continued on as if she had never interrupted.

"Now I see…" Ichigo stiffened in his embrace, because there was no escaping his purpose, "…how much you love him."

The girl tried to shake her head, tried to deny his words, but couldn't. She could not deny what had been the truth for what seemed like such a long time…

"Aoyama-kun…"

"And he loves you."

"But… I-I still love you." Even as she said that, though, her breathing was relaxing. Somehow, something seemed to be getting easier as his words, his intent, settled into her mind. Still desperate for the past, she fought it. "I still—"

"He'll protect you, Ichigo. And he will love you just as much as I do. I know that."

Just as much… _more_…

But how could he be letting her go so easily? How could he have accepted this so readily, when it had taken her days of agony to see how much that alien loved her? Why was he so ready to leave her in the arms of another?

To her numb shock, the girl found herself nodding almost imperceptibly, realizing two things:

First, that Aoyama was wiser than she.

Second, that she had made her choice.

As soon as Aoyama finished his sentence, Ichigo found herself lost in memories of all that had happened, all of those tender kisses, those warm embraces, those sweet caresses, those moments that she had never thought possible, yet enjoyed every second of…

And that was that. It was done.

"I'm so sorry… Aoyama-kun…" Of course, the remainder still wasn't easy. At least, not for her.

The boy met this with that persistent smile.

"As long as your happiness is secure, Ichigo, you have nothing to apologize for." He was making this no easier, with his sweetness, and she felt her lip tremble. Still, the boy continued.

"And I know that he will ensure your happiness."

Now he did something else that utterly shocked her:

He looked up, past her, into the trees bordering the field, and called out.

"I can trust you, can't I?"

"Hai."

Ichigo did not need to turn around to know that Kisshu was standing only a few yards behind her, expression immeasurably serious, the look in his eyes more than enough of an answer to Aoyama's query.

Somehow, she also could not find herself questioning the fact that he _was_ there, or the fact that Aoyama was watching him, speaking to him, with an unprecedented level of faith. It seemed so… so expected.

So right..

The boy looked back down at her, eyes soft, gentle, deer-like.

"Then this is good-bye, Momomiya-san."

The switch back to her surname, along with a tender kiss to the forehead, the _last_, finalized it.

Within moments, as she stood there, still captive to shock even as her mind unconsciously accepted the decision, he had removed his arms from around her, turned away, ever graceful, ever confident in these actions, and begun to walk away.

Ichigo did not call him back. She did not run after him.

She could not.

She did not belong to him anymore.

It was done, done forever and for always, and he was hers no longer.

The girl's mind processed this, tried to acclimate to it, tried to reassure itself, that it was all right, that things were fine, that this was the decision and the problems were over, but that was nothing short of impossible.

With a fresh sob, Ichigo fell to her knees…

…and immediately felt another pair of arms around her.

Suddenly, unbidden, the memory of the Blue Knight's words assaulted her: _Take her. Protect her_.

She turned around, fairly throwing herself into Kisshu's chest, arms wrapping around him with no remembrance of his still-healing wound, her grip as strong as her anguish.

The alien didn't seem to mind. He never even winced.

He allowed her to rest against him, slowly rocking her back and forth as she sobbed, gasped, wept into his jacket. A moment later, she felt him rest his cheek against the top of her head as his own grip tightened, becoming warmly snug in such a way that she stopped sobbing long enough to hear hauntingly familiar words:

"_Nen nen kororiyo okororiyo, boyawa yoikoda nenneshina."_

That first verse stopped her tears, and she lay still against his warm chest, silently mesmerized by the sound of his voice.

"_Boyano komoriwa dokoe it ta, anoyama koete satoe it ta."_

With her ear pressed against the jacket, she could hear the words vibrating in his chest, following the rhythm of his heartbeat, of _her_ heartbeat, deep and lilting, tender and miraculously strong. She could feel the song in his throat, his chest, his arms, his graceful hands, in his entire _being_, slowly flowing into her, soothing her so completely.

Beautiful.

It was so very beautiful, how they soothed her, magically dried her tears, stopped her trembling, comforted her…

Gods… just like they had comforted him all those days ago…

"_Sato no miyage ni nani morata, denden taikoni sho no fue. Sho no fue."_

By the time the last words reached the misty air, Ichigo was so deeply concentrated on the sweet tones of his voice, on the sensation of each of his fingers pressing against her with such intense comfort, on the pressure, reassuring and so utterly gentle, of his chin resting on her head, that she had calmed to absolute silence.

How long that silence lasted, neither could truly tell. Each was too absorbed in the feel of the other to count the seconds before Ichigo, still motionless, still intent on sensing his dear warmth, spoke.

"I love you."

Kisshu did not repeat the statement.

She heard nothing from him, no words, no repetition of this affirmation.

Instead, she felt his arms tighten around her, so fast, so intense, that she could not breathe, and she knew that in the coming days, she would see bruises on her arms.

She felt the pressure against the top of her head increase with startling force, and somehow she knew that he was embracing her, fierce and impassioned, true and sincere and so full of love that it _hurt_, a good, blessed sort of hurt, so that she found herself unable to start crying again.

The realization that he was so emotional, so very much in love that words failed him, that he could only express himself by holding her so tightly that it _hurt_, took the regret, the horrible sadness, away with impossible speed and finality.

Again, time disappeared.

And for now, it did not matter.

It did not matter that it was getting light, and they'd have to return home.

It did not matter that Ichigo would one day have to explain this to her parents.

Nor did it matter that they would soon have to face Ryou again, along with Minto and Zakuro.

It did not matter that somehow, they'd have to deal with Pai, and Taruto.

Gods, it did not even matter, not in the _slightest_ now, that one day soon, they'd have to face Deep Blue himself.

Nothing mattered, as the last notes of the lullaby hung in the mist-laden air, as long as this embrace, these feelings, these memories, remained with them.

Both human girl and alien boy knew they would. They would.

Forever.

And they would be joined by the prospect of this brilliant, unknown, _wonderful_ future that lay before them.

A future that began as soon as Kisshu woke from their trance, woke and tenderly cupped Ichigo's delicate chin in his gentle hand, tilting her face up ever so slowly, unbearably gentle as he watched her eyes flutter closed, allowed his own to do the same, and carefully, lovingly pressed his warm lips against hers.

With that kiss, the future truly began.

And with that kiss, they knew that no matter what they faced, they would survive, live, thrive, because from this moment, from this end and beginning, this undying symbol of affection, each would have the other.

Forever.

And that was all that mattered.

* * *

AN: IT IS DONE! Hehe. 2 AM here, and I feel like dancing. Wow. Okay, first fanfic, finished in a little under six months. 20 chapters. I am fairly amused with myself.

For those of you wondering, no, that is not the end. I'm planning a sequel some time in the future. When, I do not know. Could be months from now, what with exams and college and stuff coming. Don't worry, though. In that time, I plan to do one-shots (cuz I love 'em), both just general one-shots, and some that might actually be set in the Healing-verse, meaning that they may pertain to events in this fanfic and the timeline it has created. Needless to say, the idea of a Kisshu-related shopping trip amuses me :P.

So, thanks to you all for reading. I hope my writing wasn't too nasty, and I hope you all somehow managed to enjoy yourselves. It's been a pleasure, especially talking to all of you reviewers. With that, I bid you adieu until my next one-shot.

P.S.: I know I am totally disregarding Masha. I realize that I used him once or twice, and haven't mentioned him since. For all intents and purposes, let's say that Lettuce disabled him at some point so that he wouldn't tell Ryou that Kisshu was at Ichigo's house. That'll probably be mentioned at some point in the sequel, and I guess he may come back. Yea. I haven't forgotten. I just have no use for him :P.


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